this, the imperfection of their wits. Nevertheless herein they all
agree, commending virtue, detesting vice, and lively deciphering their
overthrow that suppress not their unruly affections. These things noted
herein, how simple soever the verse be, I hope the matter will be
acceptable to the wise.

Wherefore I am now bold to present Gismund to your sights, and unto
yours only, for therefore have I conjured her, by the love that hath
been these twenty-four years betwixt us, that she wax not so proud of
her fresh painting, to straggle in her plumes abroad, but to contain
herself within the walls of your house; so am I sure she shall be safe
from the _tragedian tyrants_ of our time, who are not ashamed to affirm
that there can no amorous poem savour of any sharpness of wit, unless it
be seasoned with scurrilous words.

But leaving them to their lewdness, I hope you, and all discreet
readers, will thankfully receive my pains, the fruits of my first
harvest: the rather, perceiving that my purpose in this tragedy tendeth
only to the exaltation of virtue and suppression of vice, with pleasure
to profit and help all men, but to offend or hurt no man. As for such as
have neither the grace, nor the good gift, to do well themselves, nor
the common honesty to speak well of others, I must (as I may) hear and
bear their baitings with patience.

Yours devoted in his ability,

R. WILMOT.