them Good.
  Is any Lover Mad? see here Loves Cure;
  Unmarried? to a Wife he may be sure
  A rare one, For a Moneth; if she displease,
  The Spanish Curate gives a Writ of ease.
  Enquire The Custome of the Country, then
  Shall the French Lawyer set you free againe.
  If the two Faire Maids take it wondrous ill,
  (One of the Inne, the other of the Mill,)
  That th' Lovers Progresse stopt, and they defam'd;
  Here's that makes Women Pleas'd, and Tamer tamd.
  But who then playes the Coxcombe, or will trie
  His Wit at severall Weapons, or else die?
  Nice Valour and he doubts not to engage
  The Noble Gentl'man, in Loves Pilgrimage,
  To take revenge on the False One, and run
  The Honest mans Fortune, to be undone
  Like Knight of Malta, or else Captaine be
  Or th' Humerous Lieutenant: goe to Sea
  (A Voyage for to starve) hee's very loath,
  Till we are all at peace, to sweare an Oath,
  That then the Loyall Subject may have leave
  To lye from Beggers Bush, and undeceive
  The Creditor, discharge his debts; Why so,
  Since we can't pay to Fletcher what we owe.
  Oh could his Prophetesse but tell one Chance,
  When that the Pilgrimes shall returne from France.
  And once more make this Kingdome, as of late,
  The Island Princesse, and we celebrate
  A Double Marriage; every one to bring
  To Fletchers memory his offering.
  That thus at last unsequesters the Stage,
  Brings backe the Silver, and the Golden Age.

Robert Gardiner.

To the Manes of the celebrated Poets and Fellow-writers, Francis
Beaumont and John Fletcher, upon the Printing of their excellent
Dramatick Poems.

  Disdaine not Gentle Shades, the lowly praise
  Which here I tender your immortall Bayes.
  Call it not folly, but my zeale, that I
  Strive to eternize you that cannot dye.
  And though no Language rightly can commend
  What you have writ, save what your selves have penn'd;
  Yet let me wonder at those curious straines
  (The rich Conceptions of your twin-like Braines)
  Which drew the Gods attention; who admir'd
  To see our English Stage by you inspir'd.
  Whose chiming Muses never fail'd to sing
  A Soule-affecting Musicke; ravishing
  Both Eare and Intellect, while you do each
  Contend with other who shall highest reach
  In rare Invention; Conflicts that beget
  New strange delight, to see two Fancies met,
  That could receive no foile: two wits in growth
  So just, as had one Soule informed both.
  Thence (Learned Fletcher) sung the muse alone,
  As both had done before, thy Beaumont gone.
  In whom, as thou, had he outlived, so he
  (Snatch'd first away) survived still in thee.
    What though distempers of the present Age
  Have banish'd your smooth numbers from the Stage?
  You shall be gainers by't; it shall confer
  To th' making the vast world your Theater.
  The Presse shall give to ev'ry man his part,
  And we will all be Actors; learne by heart
  Those Tragick Scenes and Comicke Straines you writ,
  Un-imitable both for Art and Wit;
  And at each Exit, as your Fancies rise,
  Our hands shall clap deserved Plaudities.