Playes written by the thrice noble, illustrious and excellent princess, the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle.

To the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle upon her Playes.

TErence and Plautus Wits we now do scorn, Their Comick Socks worn out, in pieces torn, Only their rags of Wit remain as toyes For Pedants to admire, to teach School Boyes; It is not time hath wasted all their Fame, But your high Phancies, and your nobler flame, Which burnt theirs up in their own ashes lies, Nor Phoenix like e'r out of those will rise; Old Tragick Buskins now are thrown away, When we read your each Passion in each Play, No stupid block or stony heart forbears To drown their Cheeks in Seas of salter Tears; Such power you have in Tragick, Comick stile, When for to fetch a tear or make a smile, Still at your pleasure all our passions ly Obedient to your pen, to laugh or cry; So even with the thread of Natures fashion, As you play on her heart-strings still of passion; So we are all your Subjects in each Play, Unwilling willingly still to obey; Or have a thought but what you make or draw Us by the power of your wits great law; Thus Emperess in Soveraign power yours fits Over the wise, and tames Poetick wits.

W. Newcastle.