2. But, spite of all his pride, a secret shame Invades his breast at Shakespeare's sacred name: Awed, when he hears his god-like Romans rage, He, in a just despair, would quit the stage, And, to an age less polished, more unskilled, Does, with disdain, the foremost honours yield. 3. Lest any reader should have anticipated better things of "Sedley's noble muse," the Lisideius of our author's dialogue on dramatic poetry, I subjoin a specimen, taken at hazard: Gape, hell, and to thy dismal bottom take The lost Antonius; this was our last stake: Warned by my ruin, let no Roman more, Set foot on the inhospitable shore. Cowards and traitors filled this impious land, Faithless and fearful, without heart or hand, Some ran to Caesar, like a headlong tide, The rest their fear made useless on our side. "This passion, with the death of a dear friend, would go nigh to make one sad;" yet some of the authors of the day held a very different doctrine. Shadwell, in his dedication to "A true Widow," tells Sedley, "You have in that Mulberry Garden shewn the true wit, humour, and satire of a comedy; and, in Antony and Cleopatra, the true spirit of a tragedy; the only one, except two of Jonson's and one of Shakespeare's, wherein Romans are made to speak and do like Romans. There are to be found the true characters of Antony and Cleopatra, as they were; whereas a French author would have made the Egyptian and Roman both become French under his pen. And even our English authors are too much given to make history (in these plays) romantic and impossible; but, in this play, the Romans are true Romans, and their style is such; and I dare affirm, that there is not in any play of this age so much of the spirit of the classic authors, as in your Antony and Cleopatra." I cannot help suspecting that much of this hyperbolical praise of Sedley was obliquely designed to mortify Dryden. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THOMAS, EARL OF DANBY, VISCOUNT LATIMER, AND BARON OSBORNE OF KIVETON IN YORKSHIRE; LORD HIGH TREASURER OF ENGLAND, ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL, AND KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER[1]. MY LORD, The gratitude of poets is so troublesome a virtue to great men, that you are often in danger of your own benefits: For you are threatened with some epistle, and not suffered to do good in quiet, or to compound for their silence whom you have obliged. Yet, I confess, I neither am or ought to be surprised at this indulgence; for your lordship has the same right to favour poetry, which the great and noble have ever had: _Carmen amat, quisquis carmine digna gerit._