Poetry, Unlike Oratory, Should Not Aim At

Archers Ever Have Two Strings To Bow; And Shall Great Cupid (archer Of Archers Both In Men And Women), Be Worse Provided Than A Common Archer?

And For The Authentical Truth Of Either Person Or Actions, Who (worth The Respecting) Will Expect It In A Poem, Whose Subject Is Not Truth, But Things Like Truth? Poor Envious Souls They Are That Cavil At Truth's Want In These Natural Fictions; Material Instruction, Elegant And Sententious Excitation To Virtue, And Deflection From Her Contrary, Being The Soul, Limbs, And Limits Of An Authentical Tragedy.

They're Only Truly Great Who Are Truly Good.

An Englishman, Being Flattered, Is A Lamb; Threatened, A Lion.

So Our Lives In Acts Exemplary, Not Only Win Ourselves Good Names, But Doth To Others Give Matter For Virtuous Deeds, By Which We Live.