# Gondibert: An Heroick Poem/Post-script

POST-SCRIPT To the Reader.
I Am here arriv'd at the middle of the Third Book, which makes an equal half of the POEM; and I was now by degrees to present you (as I promised in the Preface) the several Keys of the main Building; which should convey you through such short Walks as give an easie view of the whole Frame. But 'tis high time to strike Sail, and cast Anchor (though I have ​run but half my Course) when at the Helm I am threatened with Death; who, though he can visit us but once, seems troublesom; and even in the Innocent may beget such a gravitie, as diverts the Musick of Verse. And I beseech thee (if thou art so civil as to be pleas'd with what is written) not to take it ill, that I run not on till my last gasp. For though I intended in this POEM to strip Nature naked, and clothe her again in the perfect shape of Virtue, yet even in so worthy a Design I shall ask leave to desist, when I am interrupted by so great an experiment as Dying: and 'tis an experiment to the most experienc'd; for no Man (though his Mortifications may be much greater than mine) can say, He has alreadie Dy'd.
It may be Objected by some (who look not on Verse with the Eyes of the Ancients, nor with the Reverence which it still preserves amongst other Nations) that I beget a POEM in an unseasonable time. But be not thou, Reader, (for thine own sake, as well as mine) a common Spectator, ​that can never look on great Changes but with tears in his Eyes: for if all Men would observe, That Conquest is the Wheels of the World, on which it has ever run, the Victorious would not think they have done so new, and such admirable actions, as must draw Men from the noble and beautiful▪ Arts, to gaze wholly upon them; neither would the Conquer'd continue their wonder, till it involve them in sorrow; which is then the Mind's incurable Disease, when the Patient grows so sullen, as not to listen to Remedie: and Poesie was that Harp of David, which remov'd from Saul, the Melancholly Spirit, that put him in a continual remembrance of the revolution of Empire.
I shall not think I instruct Militarie Men, by saying, That with Poesie in Heroick Songs, the Wiser Ancients prepar'd their Battels; nor would I offend the austeritie of such, as vex themselves with the mannage of Civil Affairs, by putting them in mind, that whilst the Plays of Children are punish'd, the plays of Men are but excus'd under the title of Business.
​But I will gravely tell thee (Reader) he who writes an Heroick POEM, leaves an Estate entayl'd; and he gives a greater Gift to Posteritie, than to the present Age; for a publick benefit is best measured in the number of Receivers; and our Contemporaries are but few, when reckon'd with those who shall succeed.
Nor could I sit idle, and sigh with such as mourn to hear the Drum; for if this Age be not quiet enough to be taught Virtue a pleasant way, the next may be at leisure: Nor could I (like men that have civilly slept, till they are old in dark Cities) think War a noveltie: For we have all heard, that Alexander walk'd after the Drum from Macedon into India; and I tell thee (Reader) he carry'd Homer in his Pocket; and that after Augustus, by many Battels had chang'd the Government of the world, he and Mecœnas often feasted very peaceably with Horace: And that the last wise Cardinal (whilst he was sending Armies abroad, and preparing against civil Invasion) took Virgil & Tasso aside under the Louvre ​Gallerie, and at a great expence of time and Treasure, sent them forth in new Ornaments. And perhaps, if my POEM were not so severe a representation of Virtue (undressing Truth even out of those disguises, which have been most in fashion throughout the World) it might arrive at fair entertainment, though it make now for a Harbour in a Storm.
If thou art a malicious Reader, thou wilt remember, my Preface boldly confessed, That a main motive to this undertaking, was a desire of Fame; and thou mayst likewise say, I may very possibly not live to enjoy it. Truly I have some years ago consider'd, that Fame, like Time, onely gets a reverence by long running; and that like a River, 'tis narrowest where 'tis bred, and broadest afar off: but this concludes it not unprofitable; for he whose Writings divert Men from indiscretion & vice, becomes famous as he is an example to others endeavours: and exemplary Writers are Wiser than to depend on the gratuities of this World; since the kind looks and praises ​of the present Age, for reclaiming a few, are not mentionable with those solid rewards in Heaven, for a long and continual conversion of Posteritie.
If thou (Reader) art one of those, who has been warm'd with Poetick Fire, I reverence thee as my Judge, and whilst others tax me with vanitie, as if the Preface argued my good opinion of the Work, I appeal to thy Conscience, whether it be more than such a necessarie assurance, as thou hast made to thy self in like Undertakings? For when I observe that Writers have many Enemies, such inward assurance (me thinks) resembles that forward confidence in Men of Arms, which makes them proceed in great Enterprise; since the right examination of abilities, begins with inquiring whether we doubt our selves.
Cowes Castle in the Isle of Wight, October 22. 1650.
Will. D'avenant.
FINIS.