But what? methinks I deserue to be pounded for straying from Poetrie, to Oratory: but both haue such an affinitie in the wordish consideration, that I think this digression will make my meaning receiue the fuller vnderstanding: which is not to take vpon me to teach Poets how they should do, but only finding my selfe sicke among the rest, to shew some one or two spots of the common infection growne among the most part of writers, that acknowledging our selues somewhat awry, wee may bende to the right vse both of matter and manner. Whereto our language giueth vs great occasion, being indeed capable of any excellent exercising of it. I knowe some will say it is a mingled language: And why not, so much the better, taking the best of both the other ? Another will say, it wanteth Grammer. Nay truly it hath that praise that it wants not Grammer ; for Grammer it might haue, but it needs it not, being so easie in it selfe, and so voyd of those combersome differences of Cases, Genders, Moods, & Tenses, which I thinke was a peece of the Tower of Babilons curse, that a man should be put to schoole to learn his mother tongue. But for the vttering sweetly and properly the conceit of the minde, which is the end of speech, that hath it equally with any other tongue in the world. And is perticularly happy in compositions of two or three wordes togither, neare the Greeke, farre beyond the Latine, which is one of the greatest bewties can be in a language.

Now of versefying, there are two sorts, the one auncient, the other moderne. The auncient marked the quantitie of each sillable, and according to that, framed his verse: The moderne, obseruing onely number, with some regard of the accent; the chiefe life of it, standeth in that like sounding of the words, which we call Rime. Whether of those be the more excellent, wold bear many speeches, the ancient no doubt more fit for Musick, both words and time obseruing quantitie, and more fit, liuely to expresse diuers passions by the low or loftie sound of the well-wayed sillable. The latter likewise with his rime striketh a certaine Musicke to the eare: and in fine, since it dooth delight, though by an other way, it obtaineth the same purpose, there being in either sweetnesse, and wanting in neither maiestie. Truly the English before any Vulgare language, I know is fit for both sorts: for, for the auncient, the Italian is so full of Vowels, that it must euer be combred with Elisions. The Duch so of the other side with Consonants, that they cannot yeeld the sweete slyding, fit for a Verse. The French in his whole language, hath not one word that hath his accent in the last sillable, sauing two, called Antepenultima; and little more hath the Spanish, and therefore verie gracelesly may they vse Dactiles. The English is subiect to none of these defects. Now for Rime, though we doo not obserue quantitie, yet wee obserue the Accent verie precisely, which other languages either cannot do, or will not do so absolutely. That Caesura, or breathing place in the midst of the Verse, neither Italian nor Spanish haue: the French and we, neuer almost faile off. Lastly, euen the verie Rime it selfe, the Italian cannot put it in the last sillable, by the French named the Masculine Rime; but still in the next to the last, which the French call the Female; or the next before that, which the Italian Sdrucciola: the example of the former, is Buono, Suono, of the Sdrucciola, is Femina, Semina. The French of the other side, hath both the Male as Bon, Son; and the Female, as Plaise, Taise;but the Sdrucciola he hath not: where the English hath all three, as Du, Trew, Father, Rather, Motion, Potion , with much more which might be sayd, but that alreadie I finde the triflings of this discourse is much too much enlarged.

So that since the euer praise woorthie Poesie is full of vertue breeding delightfulnesse, and voyd of no gift that ought to be in the noble name of learning, since the blames layd against it, are either false or feeble, since the cause why it is not esteemed in England, is the fault of Poet-apes, not Poets. Since lastly our tongue is most fit to honour Poesie, and to bee honoured by Poesie, I coniure you all that haue had the euill luck to read this inck-wasting toy of mine, euen in the name of the nine Muses, no more to scorne the sacred misteries of Poesie. No more to laugh at the name of Poets, as though they were next inheritors to fooles; no more to iest at the reuerent title of a Rimer, but to beleeue with Aristotle, that they were the auncient Treasurers of the Grecians diuinitie; to beleeue with Bembus, that they were first bringers in of all Ciuilitie; to beleeue with Scalliger that no Philosophers precepts can sooner make you an honest man, then the reading of Virgil; to beleeue with Clauserus the Translator of Cornutus, that it pleased the heauenly deitie by Hesiod and Homer, vnder the vaile of Fables to giue vs all knowledge, Logicke, Rhetoricke, Philosophie, naturall and morall, and Quid non? To beleeue with me, that there are many misteries contained in Poetrie, which of purpose were written darkly, least by prophane wits it should be abused: To beleeue with Landin, that they are so beloued of the Gods, that whatsoeuer they write, proceeds of a diuine furie. Lastly, to beleeue themselues when they tell you they will make you immortal by their verses. Thus doing, your name shall florish in the Printers shops. Thus doing, you shall be of kin to many a Poeticall Preface. Thus doing, you shal be most faire, most rich, most wise, most all: you shall dwel vpon Superlatiues. Thus doing, though you be Libertino patre natus, you shall sodeinly grow Herculea proles. Si quid mea Carmina possunt. Thus do- ing your soule shall be placed with Dantes Beatrix, or Virgils Anchises. But if (fie of such a but) you bee borne so neare the dull-making Cataract of Nilus, that you cannot heare the Planet-like Musicke of Poetrie; if you haue so earth-creeping a mind that it cannot lift it selfe vp to looke to the skie of Poetrie, or rather by a certaine rusticall disdaine, wil become such a mome, as to bee a Momus of Poetrie: then though I will not wish vnto you the Asses eares of Midas, nor to be driuen by a Poets verses as Bubonax was, to hang himselfe, nor to be rimed to death as is said to be done in Ireland, yet thus much Curse I must send you in the behalfe of all Poets, that while you liue, you liue in loue, and neuer get fauour, for lacking skill of a Sonet, and when you die, your memorie die from the earth for want of an Epitaphe.