So have I seen the March wind strive to fade
The fairest hue that art or nature made:
So envy still doth bark at clearest shine
And strives to stain heroic acts divine.

J. MARSTON

From The New Inn, 1631

The just indignation the author took at the vulgar censure of his play

Come leave the loathed stage,

And the more loathsome age,

Where pride and impudence, in faction knit,
Usurp the chair of wit;
Indicting and arraigning every day
Something they call a play.

Let their fastidious vain.

Commission of the brain

Run on and rage, sweat, censure, and condemn ;
They were not made for thee, less thou for them.

Say that thou pour'st them wheat,
And they will acorns eat;

'Twere simple fury still thyself to waste
On such as have no taste!

To offer them a surfeit of pure bread,
Whose appetites are dead!

No, give them grains their fill,
Husks, draff to drink and swill:

If they love lees, and leave the lusty wine,
Envy them not, their palate's with the swine.

No doubt some mouldy tale,

Like Pericles, and stale

As the shrieve's crusts, and nasty as his fish

Scraps, out of every dish

Thrown forth, and raked into the common tub,
May keep up the Play-club;

There, sweepings do as well

As the best-order'd meal

For who the relish of these guests will fit,
Needs set them but the alms-basket of wit.

And much good do't you then:
Brave plush and velvet-men,

Can feed on orts; and, safe in your stage-clothes,
Dare quit, upon your oaths,

The stagers and the stage-wrights too, your peers,
Of larding your large ears

With their foul comic socks,

Wrought upon twenty blocks;

Which, if they are torn, and turn'd, and patch'd enough, The gamesters share your guilt, and you their stuff.

Leave things so prostitute
And take the Alcaic lute;

Or thine own Horace, or Anacreon's lyre;
Warm thee by Pindar's fire:

And though thy nerves be shrunk, and blood be cold
Ere years have made thee old,

Strike that disdainful heat
Throughout, to their defeat,

As curious fools, and envious of thy strain,
May, blushing, swear no palsy's in thy brain.

But when they hear thee sing
The glories of thy king,

His zeal to God, and his just awe o'er men:
They may, blood-shaken then,

Feel such a flesh-quake to possess their powers
As they shall cry, Like ours,

In sound of peace or wars,
No harp e'er hit the stars,

In tuning forth the acts of his sweet reign;
And raising Charles his chariot 'bove his Wain.

BEN JONSON

INDEX OF AUTHORS

ANON.

Are women fair? Aye wondrous fair to see to, 74

Coridon, arise, my Coridon, 72

Fain would I change that note, 128

Fine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave, and new! 88

If fathers knew but how to leave, 127

I know as well as you she is not fair, 158

I saw my lady weep, 89

Oh what a pain is love, 159

There is a Lady sweet and kind, 129

Think'st thou Kate to put me down, 128

Weep you no more, sad fountains, 90

BACON, FRANCIS, LORD VERULAM (1561—1626)
The World's a bubble and the life of man, 76

BARNES, BARNABE (1569 ?—1609)

Sonnet. Begs Love which whilom was a deity, 194

BARNFIELD, RICHARD (1574—1627)

My flocks feed not, my ewes breed not, 129
Sonnet. If music and sweet poetry agree, 206

BEAUMONT, FRANCIS (1584-1616)

Come, sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving, 151
Cynthia to thy power and thee, 152

Lay a garland on my hearse, 152
Mortality, behold and fear, 153

BRETON, NICHOLAS (1545 ?—1626 ?)

Come all the world, submit yourselves to Care, 18
In the merry month of May, 18

CAMPION, THOMAS (1567?—1620)

Come! you pretty false-ey'd wanton, 107

Follow your Saint, follow with accents sweet, 102

I care not for these ladies, 103

My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love, 105
Never love unless you can, 108
Now winter nights enlarge, 109

Rose-cheeked Laura come, 105

Thou art not fair for all thy red and white, 103
Though your strangeness frets my heart, 106

Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air, 108

When thou must home, to shades of underground, 104

́CHAPMAN, GEORGE (1559?—1634)

But this is Learning: to have skill to throw (Tears of Peace), 269
Come, come, dear Night Love's mart of kisses (Hero and Leander), 75
In meantime flew our ships (Odyssey XII), 231

I saw likewise stand (Odyssey XI), 229

Riches, and conquest, and renown I sing (Guiana), 250
Then held he on to other troops (Iliad IV), 224

When aged Priam spied (Iliad XXII), 225

CONSTABLE, HENRY (1562—1613)

Diaphenia, like the daffadowndilly, 77

Feed on, my flocks, securely, 77

Sonnets. Give pardon, blessed soul, to my bold cries, 196
My lady's presence makes the roses red, 196

DANIEL, SAMUEL (1567-1619)

Ah I remember well, and how can I, 80

Are they shadows that we see, 80

Come, worthy Greek! Ulysses, come, 78

He that of such a height hath built his mind, 266

O war! begot in pride and luxury (Civil Wars), 248

Pow'r above pow'rs, O heav'nly Eloquence (Musophilus), 264
Then write, quoth she, the ruin of my youth (Rosamond), 245
Sonnets. Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night, 198

Let others sing of Knights and Paladines, 198
Look Delia, how we 'steem the half-blown rose, 197
Restore thy tresses to the golden ore, 197

DAVIES, SIR JOHN (1569-1626)

For that brave Sun, the Father of the Day (Orchestra), 261

This substance and this spirit of God's own making (Nosce Teipsum), 263
Sonnet. Mine eye, mine ear, my will, my wit, my heart, 217

DAVISON, FRANCIS (1575 ?-1619?)

Lady! you are with beauties so enriched, 130

DEKKER, THOMAS (1570-1641)

Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers, 133
Beauty arise! show forth thy glorious shining, 134
Cast away care! he that loves sorrow, 136
Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, 134

Haymakers, rakers, reapers, and mowers, 135

DEVEREUX, ROBERT, EARL OF ESSEX (1566—1601)
The ways on earth have paths and turnings known, 102

DONNE, JOHN (1573—1631)

By our first strange and fatal interview, 125