To his friend Mr. John Webster
Upon his Dutchesse
of Malfy.
I Never saw thy Dutchesse, till the day,
That She was lively body'd in thy Play;
How'ere she answer'd her low-rated Love,
Her brothers anger, did so fatall proove,
Yet my opinion is, she might speake more;
But (never in her life) so well before.
To the Reader of the Authour,
and his Dutchesse of Malfy.
CRowne Him a Poet, whom nor Rome, nor Greece,
Transcend in all their's, for a Master-peece:
In which, Whiles words and matter change, and Men,
Act one another; Hee, from whose cleare Pen.
They All tooke life, To Memory hath lent
A lasting Fame, to raise his Monument.
