of "The Rebellion," was a medallist by
profession, and afterwards became an engraver of the Mint, a
vocation which, in his preface, he prefers to the threadbare
occupation of a poet. [He also employed his talents occasionally
in engraving frontispieces and portraits for books, of which
several signed specimens are known.[2] It is said that he died in
1670.] It is an argument, as well of his personal respectability,
as of his easy circumstances, that no fewer than eleven copies of
prefatory verses, by the wits of the time, are prefixed to the
old edition. Notwithstanding the popularity of the piece, [which,
as it appears from the introductory poems, was composed by
Rawlins in early life,] and several passages of real merit, it
was [only once] republished, perhaps because rebellion soon
assumed the whole kingdom for its stage.

[Besides his play, Rawlins published in 1648 an octavo volume of
poems, written also in his youth, under the title of
"Calanthe."[3]]

TO THE WORSHIPFUL, AND HIS HONOURED KINSMAN,

ROBERT DUCIE,[4]

OF ASTON, IN THE COUNTY OF STAFFORD,
ESQUIRE;

SON TO SIR R. DUCIE, KNIGHT AND BARONET, DECEASED.

SIR,--Not to boast of any perfections, I have never yet been
owner of ingratitude, and would be loth envy should tax me now,
having at this time opportunity to pay part of that debt I owe
your love. This tragedy had at the presentment a general
applause; yet I have not that want of modesty as to conclude it
wholly worthy your patronage, although I have been bold to fix
your name unto it. Yet, however, your charity will be famous in
protecting this plant from the breath of Zoilus, and forgiving
this my confidence, and your acceptance cherish a study of a more
deserving piece, to quit the remainder of the engagement. In

Your kinsman, ready to serve you,
THOMAS RAWLINS.

TO THE READER.

READER, if courteous, I have not so little faith as to fear thy
censure, since thou knowest youth hath many faults, whereon I
depend, although my ignorance of the stage is also a sufficient
excuse. If I have committed any, let thy candour judge mildly of
them; and think not those voluntary favours of my friends (by
whose compulsive persuasions I have published this) are
commendations of my seeking, or through a desire in me to
increase the volume, but rather a care that you (since that I
have been over-entreated to present it to you) might find ther