All yield, consenting to sustain the Yoke,
And learn the Language which the Victor spoke.
So _Macedon's Imperial Hero_ threw
His wings abroad, and conquer'd as he flew.
Great _Johnson's_ Deeds stand Parallel with His,
Were _Noble Thefts, Successful Pyracies_.

Souls of a Heroe's, or a Poet's Frame
Are fill'd with larger particles of flame.
Scorning confinement, for more Land they groan,
And stretch beyond the Limits of their Own.

[_Fletcher_ and _Beaument_]

_Fletcher_, whose Wit, like some luxuriant Vine,
Profusely wanton'd in each golden Line.
Who, prodigal of Sense, by _Beaumont's_ care,
Was prun'd so wisely, and became so fair.
Could from his copious Brain new Humours bring,
A _bragging Bessus_, or _inconstant King_.
Could Laughter thence, here melting pity raise
In his _Amyntors_, and _Aspasia's_.
But _Rome_ and _Athens_ must the Plots produce
With _France_, the Handmaid of the _English_ Muse

[_Shakespear_.]

Ev'n _Shakespear_ sweated in his narrow Isle,
And Subject _Italy_ obey'd his Stile.
_Boccace_ and _Cinthio_ must a tribute pay,