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.

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