Mr. Francis Beaumonts Letter to Ben. Johnson, written before he and Mr. Fletcher came to London, with two of the precedent Comedies then not finish'd, which deferr'd their merry meetings at the Mermaid.
THe Sun which doth the greatest comfort bring
To absent friends, because the self-same thing
They know they see however absent, is,
Here our best Hay-makers forgive me this,
It is our Countreys stile. In this warm shine,
I l••e and dream of your full Mermaid Wine.
Oh we have water mixt with Claret Lees,
Drink apt to bring in dryer Heresies
Than Beer, good only for the Sonnets strain,
With sustian Metaphors to stuff the brain,
So mixt, that given to the thirstiest one,
'Twill not prove Alms, unless he have the stone:
I think with one draught mans invention fades,
Two Cups had quite spoil'd Homers Illiads;
'Tis Liquor that will find out Sutcliff s wit,
Lye where he will, and make him write worse yet;
Fil'd with such moisture in most grievous qualms;
Did Rob. Wisdom write his Singing Psalms;
And so must I do this, and yet I think
It is a potion sent us down to drink,
By special Providence keeps us from fights,
Makes us not laugh, when we make legs to knights
'Tis this that keeps our minds fit for our States,
A Medicine to obey our Magistrates:
For we do live more free than you, no hate,
No envy at one anothers State
Moves us, we are all equal every whit:
Of Land that God gives men here is their wit:
If we consider fully, for our best,
And gravest men will with his main house jest,
Scarce please you; we want subtilty to do
The City tricks, lye, hate, and flatter too:
Here are none that can bear a painted show,
Strike when you winch, and then lament the blow:
Who like Mills set the right way for to grind,
Can make their gains alike with every wind:
Only some fellows with the subtil'st pate
Amongst us, may perchance equivocate
At selling of a Horse, and that's the most.
Methinks the little wit I had is lost
Since I saw you, for Wit is like a Rest
Held up at Tennis, which men do the best,
With the best gamesters: what things have we seen,
Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been
So nimble, and so full of subtil flame,
As if that every one from whence they came,
Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest,
And had resolv'd to live a fool, the rest
Of his dull life; then when there hath been thrown
Wit able enough to justifie the Town
For three days past, wit that might warrant be
For the whole City to talk foolishly
Till that were cancell'd, and when that was gone,
We left an Air behind us, which alone,
Was able to make the two next Companies
Right witty; though but downright fools, more wise.
When I remember this, and see that now
The Countrey Gentlemen begin to allow
My wit for dry bobs, then I needs must cry,
I see my days of Ballating grow nigh;
I can already Riddle, and can Sing
Ketches, sell bargains, and I fear shall bring
My self to speak the hardest words I find,
Over, as oft as any, with one wind,
That takes no medicines: But one thought of thee
Makes me remember all these things to be
The wit of our young men, fellows that show
No part of good, yet utter all they kno••••
Who like trees of the Guard, have growing souls.
Only strong destiny, which all controuls,
I hope hath left a better fate in store,
For me thy friend, than to live ever poor,
Banisht unto this home; fate once again
Bring me to thee, who canst make smooth and plain
The way of Knowledge for me, and then I,
Who have no good but in thy company,
Protest it will my greatest comfort be
To acknowledge all I have to flow from thee.
Ben. when these Scaenes are perfect, we'll taste wine;
I'll drink thy Muses health, thou shalt quaff mine,