A LIST

OF

MASSINGER'S PLAYS.

26. THE UNFORTUNATE PIETY. T. Acted 32. A VERY WOMAN. T. C. Acted June 6, June 13, 1631, by the King's Company. Lost.

27. THE FATAL DOWRY. T. Acted by the King's 33. THE ORATOR. Acted June 10, 1635, by the

COMMENDATORY VERSES

ON

MASSINGER.

UPON THIS WORK, "THE DUKE OF MILAN," OF HIS BELOVED FRIEND THE AUTHOR.

I AM snapt already, and may go my way;

The poet-critic's come; I hear him say

This youth's mistook, the author's work's a play.

He could not miss it, he will straight appear
At such a bait; 'twas laid on purpose there,
To take the vermin, and I have him here.
Sirrah! you will be nibbling; a small bit,
A syllable, when you're in the hungry fit,
Will serve to stay the stomach of your wit.

Fool, knave, what worse, for worse cannot deprave thee
And were the devil now instantly to have thee,
Thou canst not instance such a work to save thee,

'Mongst all the ballets which thou dost compose,
And what thou stylest thy Poems, ill as those,
And void of rhyme and reason, thy worse prose:

Yet like a rude jack-sauce in poesy,
With thoughts unblest, and hand unmannerly,
Ravishing branches from Apollo's tree;

Thou mak'st a garland, for thy touch unfit,

And boldly deck'st thy pig-brain'd sconce with it,
As if it were the supreme head of wit :

The blameless Muses blush; who not allow
That reverend order to each vulgar brow,
Whose sinful touch profanes the holy bough.
Hence, shallow prophet! and admire the strain
Of thine own pen, or thy poor cope-mate's vein;
This piece too curious is for thy coarse brain.
Here wit, more fortunate, is join'd with art,
And that most sacred frenzy bears a part,
Infused by nature in the Poet's heart.

Here may the puny wits themselves direct,
Here may the wisest find what to affect,
And kings may learn their proper dialect.

On then, dear friend! thy pen, thy name, shall spread,
And shouldst thou write, while thou shalt not be read,
The Muse must labour, when thy hand is dead.

W. B.

;

THE AUTHOR'S FRIEND TO THE READER, ON THE "BONDMAN.”

The printer's haste calls on; I must not drive

My time past six, though I begin at five.
One hour I have entire, and 'tis enough;
Here are no gipsy jigs, no drumming-stuff,
Dances, or other trumpery to delight,

Or take, by common way, the common sight.
The author of this poem, as he dares
To stand the austerest censure, so he cares
As little what it is; his own best way
Is, to be judge, and author of his play:
It is his knowledge makes him thus secure ;
Nor does he write to please, but to endure.
And, reader, if you have disbursed a shilling,
To see this worthy story, and are willing
To have a large increase, if ruled by me,
You may a merchant and a poet be.
'Tis granted for your twelve-pence you did sit,
And see, and hear, and understand not yet.
The author, in a Christian pity, takes
Care of your good, and prints it for your sakes;
That such as will but venture sixpence more,
May know what they but saw and heard before :
"Twill not be money lost, if you can read,
(There's all the doubt now,) but your gains exceed,
If you can understand, and you are made

Free of the freest and the noblest trade;

And in the way of poetry, now-a-days,

Of all that are call'd works, the best are plays.

W. B.

TO MY HONOURED FRIEND, MASTER PHILIP MASSINGER, UPON HIS “RENEGADO."