Our author was not insensible to these attacks, by which his loyalty to the king, and the decency of his conduct towards Monmouth, the king's offending, but still beloved, son, and once Dryden's own patron, stood painfully compromised. Accordingly, shortly after these pamphlets had appeared, the following advertisement was annexed to "The Duke of Guise:" "There was a preface intended to this play in vindication of it, against two scurrilous libels lately printed; but it was judged, that a defence of this nature would require more room than a preface reasonably could allow. For this cause, and for the importunities of the stationers, who hastened their impression, it is deferred for some little time, and will be printed by itself. Most men are already of opinion, that neither of the pamphlets deserve an answer, because they are stuffed with open falsities, and sometimes contradict each other; but, for once, they shall have a day or two thrown away upon them, though I break an old custom for their sakes, which was,--to scorn them." The resolution, thus announced, did not give universal satisfaction to our author's friends; one of whom published the following remonstrance, which contains some good sense, in very indifferent poetry: _An Epode to his worthy Friend_ JOHN DRYDEN, _to advise him not to answer two malicious Pamphlets against his Tragedy called_ "The Duke of Guise." (_Marked by Luttrel, 10 March, 1683/4._) Can angry frowns rest on thy noble brow For trivial things; Or, can a stream of muddy water flow From the Muses' springs; Or great Apollo bend his vengeful bow 'Gainst popular stings? Desist thy passion then; do not engage Thyself against the wittols of the age. Should we by stiff Tom Thimble's faction fall, Lord, with what noise The Coffee throats would bellow, and the Ball O' the Change rejoice, And with the company of Pinner's Hall Lift up their voice! Once the head's gone, the good cause is secure; The members cannot long resist our power. Crop not their humours; let the wits proceed Till they have thrown Their venom up; and made themselves indeed Rare fops o'ergrown: Let them on nasty garbage prey and feed, Till all is done; And, by thy great resentment, think it fit To crush their hopes, as humble as their wit. Consider the occasion, and you'll find Yourself severe, And unto rashness much more here inclined, By far, than they're: Consider them as in their proper kind, 'Tween rage and fear, And then the reason will appear most plain,-- A worm that's trod on will turn back again. What if they censure without brain or sense, 'Tis now the fashion; Each giddy fop endeavours to commence A reformation. Pardon them for their native ignorance, And brainsick passion; For, after all, true men of sense will say,-- Their works can never parallel thy play.