Act 5 — TO MY HONOURED FRIEND MASTER THOMAS MAY,

The Heir being born, was in his tender age Rock'd in the cradle of a private stage, Where, lifted up by many a willing hand, The child did from the first day fairly stand; Since having gather'd strength, he dares prefer His steps into the public theatre— The world: where he despairs not but to find A doom from men more able, not less kind. I but his usher am; yet, if my word May pass, I dare be bound he will afford Things must deserve a welcome, if well known, Such as best writers would have wish'd their own. You shall observe his words in order meet, And, softly stealing on with equal feet, Slide into even numbers with such grace, As each word had been moulded for that place. You shall perceive an amorous passion, spun Into so smooth a web as, had the Sun, When he pursu'd the swiftly-flying maid, Courted her in such language, she had stay'd: A love so well express'd must be the same The author felt himself from his fair flame. The whole plot doth alike itself disclose Through the five acts, as doth a lock, that goes With letters; for, till every one be known, The lock's as fast as if you had found none; And, where his sportive Muse doth draw a thread Of mirth, chaste matrons may not blush to read. Thus have I thought it fitter to reveal My want of art (dear friend) than to conceal My love. It did appear I did not mean So to commend thy well-wrought comic scene, As men might judge my aim rather to be To gain praise to myself than give it thee; Though I can give thee none but what thou hast Deserv'd, and what must my faint breath outlast. Yet was this garment (though I skill-less be To take thy measure) only made for thee; And, if it prove too scant, 'tis 'cause the stuff Nature allow'd me was not large enough. Thomas Carew.[414]