being furnished with Arts and Sciences by that liberall education they had at the University, which sure is the best place to make a great Wit understand it selfe; this their workes will soone make evident. I was very ambitious to have got Mr. Beaumonts picture; but could not possibly, though I spared no enquirie in those Noble Families whence he was descended, as also among those Gentlemen that were his acquaintance when he was of the Inner Temple: the best Pictures and those most like him you'll finde in this Volume. This figure of Mr. Fletcher was cut by severall Originall Pieces, which his friends lent me, but withall they tell me, that his unimitable Soule did shine through his countenance in such Ayre and Spirit, that the Painters confessed, it was not easie to expresse him: As much as could be, you have here, and the Graver hath done his part. What ever I have scene of Mr. Fletchers owne hand, is free from interlining; and his friends affirme he never writ any one thing twice: it seemes he had that rare felicity to prepare and perfect all first in his owne braine; to shape and attire his Notions, to adde or loppe off, before he committed one word to writing, and never touched pen till all was to stand as firme and immutable as if ingraven in Brasse or Marble. But I keepe you too long from those friends of his whom 'tis fitter for you to read; only accept of the honest endeavours of

One that is a Servant to you all

 HUMPHREY MOSELEY.
At the Princes Armes in
 St Pauls Church-yard. Feb._ 14th 1646.

To the Stationer.

  Tell the sad World that now the lab'ring Presse
  Has brought forth safe a Child of happinesse,
  The Frontis-piece will satisfie the wise
  And good so well, they will not grudge the price.
    'Tis not all Kingdomes joyn'd in one could buy
  (If priz'd aright) so true a Library
  Of man: where we the characters may finde
  Of ev'ry Nobler and each baser minde.
  Desert has here reward in one good line
  For all it lost, for all it might repine:
  Vile and ignobler things are open laid,
  The truth of their false colours are displayed:
  You'l say the Poet's both best Judge and Priest,
  No guilty soule abides so sharp a test
    As their smooth Pen; for what these rare men writ
    Commands the World, both Honesty and Wit.

GRANDISON.

IN MEMORY OF Mr. JOHN FLETCHER.

  Me thought our Fletcher weary of this croud,
  Wherein so few have witt, yet all are loud,
  Unto Elyzium fled, where he alone
  Might his own witt admire and ours bemoane;
  But soone upon those Flowry Bankes, a throng
  Worthy of those even numbers which he sung,
  Appeared, and though those Ancient Laureates strive
  When dead themselves, whose raptures should survive,
  For his Temples all their owne bayes allowes,
  Not sham'd to see him crown'd with naked browes;
  Homer his beautifull Achilles nam'd,
  Urging his braine with Joves might well be fam'd,
  Since 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 Æneas 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 left unto the times so great
  A Legacy, a Treasure so compleat,
  That 'twill be hard I feare to prove thy Will:
  Men will be wrangling, and in doubting still
  How so vast summes of wit were left behind,
  And yet nor debts nor sharers they can finde.
  'Twas the kind providence of fate, to lock
  Some of this Treasure up; and keep a stock
  For a reserve untill these sullen daies:
  When scorn, and want, and danger, are the Baies
  That Crown the head of merit. But now he
  Who in thy Will hath part, is rich and free.
  But there's a Caveat enter'd by command,
  None should pretend, but those can understand.

HENRY MODY, Baronet.

ON

Mr Fletchers Works.

  Though Poets have a licence which they use
  As th' ancient priviledge of their free Muse;
  Yet whether this be leave enough for me
  To write, great Bard, an Eulogie for thee:
  Or whether to commend thy Worke, will stand
  Both with the Lawes of Verse and of the Land,
  Were to put doubts might raise a discontent
  Between the Muses and the ——
  I'le none of that. There's desperate wits that be
  (As their immortall Lawrell) Thunder-free;
  Whose personall vertues, 'bove the Lawes of Fate,
  Supply the roome of personall estate:
  And thus enfranchis'd, safely may rehearse,
  Rapt