e it brought forth one full of beauties charmes,
As was his Pallas, and as bold in Armes; [-King and no King.-]
But when he the brave_ Arbases _saw, one
That saved his peoples dangers by his own,
And saw_ Tigranes _by his hand undon
Without the helpe of any_ Mirmydon,
_He then confess'd when next hee'd Hector slay,
That he must borrow him from Fletchers Play;
This might have beene the shame, for which he bid
His_ Iliades _in a Nut-shell should be hid_:
Virgill _of his_ AEneas _next begun,
Whose God-like forme and tongue so soone had wonne;
That Queene of_ Carthage _and of beauty too,
Two powers the whole world else were slaves unto,
Urging that Prince for to repaire his faulte
On earth, boldly in hell his Mistresse sought; [-The Maides Tragedy.-]
But when he_ Amintor _saw revenge that wrong,
For which the sad_ Aspasia _sigh'd so long,
Upon himselfe, to shades hasting away,
Not for to make a visit but to stay;
He then did modestly confesse how farr_
Fletcher _out-did him in a Charactar.
Now lastly for a refuge_, Virgill _shewes
The lines where_ Corydon Alexis _woes;
But those in opposition quickly met [-The faithfull Shepherdesse.-]
The smooth tongu'd_ Perigot _and_ Amoret:
_A paire whom doubtlesse had the others seene,
They from their owne loves had_ Apostates _beene;
Thus_ Fletcher _did the fam'd laureat exceed,
Both when his Trumpet sounded and his reed;
Now if the Ancients yeeld that heretofore,
None worthyer then those ere Laurell wore;
The least our age can say now thou art gon,
Is that there never will be such a one:
And since t' expresse thy worth, our rimes too narrow be,
To help it wee'l be ample in our prophesie_.

H. HOWARD.

On Mr John Fletcher, and his Workes, never before published.

_To flatter living fooles is easie slight:
But hard, to do the living-dead men right.
To praise a Landed Lord, is gainfull art:
But thanklesse to pay Tribute to desert.
This should have been my taske: I had intent
To bring my rubbish to thy monument,
To stop some crannies there, but that I found
No need of least repaire; all firme and sound.
Thy well-built fame doth still it selfe advance
Above the Worlds mad zeale and ignorance,
Though thou dyedst not possest of that same pelfe
(Which Nobler soules call durt,) the City wealth:
Yet thou hast lef