it might, and yet it may again,
If thou would'st not entomb thyself alive,
And case thy reputation in thy tent;
Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,
Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves,
And drave great Mars to faction.

TO

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

ROBERT,

EARL OF SUNDERLAND[1],

PRINCIPAL SECRETARY OF STATE, ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S
MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY-COUNCIL, &C.

MY LORD,

Since I cannot promise you much of poetry in my play, it is but
reasonable that I should secure you from any part of it in my
dedication. And indeed I cannot better distinguish the exactness of
your taste from that of other men, than by the plainness and sincerity
of my address. I must keep my hyperboles in reserve for men of other
understandings. An hungry appetite after praise, and a strong
digestion of it, will bear the grossness of that diet; but one of so
critical a judgment as your lordship, who can set the bounds of just
and proper in every subject, would give me small encouragement for so
bold an undertaking. I more than suspect, my lord, that you would not
do common justice to yourself; and, therefore, were I to give that
character of you, which I think you truly merit, I would make my
appeal from your lordship to the reader, and would justify myself from
flattery by the public voice, whatever protestation you might enter to
the contrary. But I find I am to take other measures with your
lordship; I am to stand upon my guard with you, and to approach you as
warily as Horace did Augustus:

_Cui male si palpere, recalcitrat undique tutus._

An ill-timed, or an extravagant commendation, would not pass upon you;
but you would keep off such a dedicator at arms-end, and send him back
with his encomiums to this lord, or that lady, who stood in need of
such trifling merchandise. You see, my lord, what an awe you have upon
me, when I dare not offer you that incense which would be acceptable
to other patrons; but am forced to curb myself from ascribing to you
those honours, which even an enemy could not deny you. Yet I must
confess, I never practised that virtue of moderation (which is
properly your character) with so much reluctancy as now: for it
hinders me from being true to my own knowledge, in not witnessing your
worth, and deprives m