It is so rare and new a thing to see
Ought that belongs to young nobility
In print, but their own clothes, that we must praise
You as we would do those first shew the ways
To arts or to new worlds. You have begun;.mw-parser-output .wst-pline{color:#2E8B57;font-size:83%}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-default2{margin-left:1em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-r{float:right;text-indent:0;margin-left:1em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-l{float:left;text-align:right;margin-left:-3em;width:2.5em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-or{float:right;text-align:right;margin-right:-3em;width:2.5em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-n{font-style:normal}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-i{font-style:italic}5
Taught travell'd youth what 'tis it should have done:
For 't has indeed too strong a custom been
To carry out more wit than we bring in.
You have done otherwise, brought home, my lord,
The choicest things fam'd countries do afford:10
Malvezzi by your means is English grown,
And speaks our tongue as well now as his own.
Malvezzi, he whom 'tis as hard to praise
To merit, as to imitate his ways.
He does not show us Rome great suddenly,15
As if the empire were a tympany,
But gives it natural growth, tells how and why
The little body grew so large and high.
Describes each thing so lively, that we are
Concern'd ourselves before we are aware:20
And at the wars they and their neighbours wag'd,
Each man is present still, and still engag'd.
Like a good prospective he strangely brings
Things distant to us; and in these two kings
We see what made greatness. And what 't has been25
Made that greatness contemptible again.
And all this not tediously deriv'd,
But like to worlds in little maps contriv'd.
'Tis he that doth the Roman dame restore,
Makes Lucrece chaster for her being whore;30
Gives her a kind revenge for Tarquin's sin;
For ravish'd first, she ravisheth again.
She says such fine things after 't, that we must
In spite of virtue thank foul rape and lust,
Since 't was the cause no woman would have had,35
Though she's of Lucrece side, Tarquin less bad.
But stay; like one that thinks to bring his friend
A mile or two, and sees the journey's end,
I straggle on too far; long graces do
But keep good stomachs off, that would fall to.40