Your ancestors so rashly did commit,
Against the mighty powers of art and wit,
When they condemned those noble works of mine,
Sejanus, and my best loved Catiline?
Repent, or on your guilty heads shall fall
The curse of many a rhyming pastoral.
The three bold Beauchamps shall revive again,
And with the London-Prentice conquer Spain.
All the dull follies of the former age
Shall find applause on this corrupted stage.