in Sound as the last is suppli'd in Measure; so that the smartness of a Reply, which has it's beauty by coming from sudden Thoughts, seems lost by that which rather looks like a Design of two than the Answer of one. It may be said, That Rhime is such a confinement to a quick 5 and luxuriant Phansie, that it gives a stop to its speed, till slow Judgment comes in to assist it; but this is no Argument for the Question in hand; for the dispute is not which way a Man may write best in, but which is most proper for the Subject he writes upon; and if this were let pass, the 10 Argument is yet unsolv'd in it self, for he that wants Judgment in the liberty of his Phancy may as well shew the defect of it in its Confinement; and to say truth, he that has Judgment will avoid the errors, and he that wants it will commit them both. It may be objected, 'Tis improbable that any 15 should speak ex tempore as well as Beaumont and Fletcher makes them, though in Blank Verse; I do not only acknowledg that, but that 'tis also improbable any will write so well that way; but if that may be allow'd improbable, I believe it may be concluded impossible that any should speak as 20 good Verses in Rhime as the best Poets have writ, and therefore that which seems neerest to what it intends is ever to be prefer'd: Nor is great Thoughts more adorned by Verse than Verse unbeautifi'd by mean ones; so that Verse seems not only unfit in the best use of it, but much 25 more in the worse, when a Servant is call'd or a Door bid to be shut in Rhime. Verses (I mean good ones) do in their height of Phancy declare the labour that brought them forth, like Majesty that grows with care; and Nature, that made the Poet capable, seems to retire and leave its 30 offers to be made perfect by Pains and Judgment. Against this I can raise no Argument but my Lord of Orory's Writings, in whose Verse the greatness of the Majesty seems unsullied with the Cares, and his unimitable Phancy descends to us in such easie Expressions that they seem 35 as if neither had ever been added to the other, but both together flowing from a height, like Birds got so high, that use no labouring Wings, but only with an easie care preserve a steadiness in motion: But this particular 5 Happiness, among those multitudes which that excellent Person is Owner of, does not convince my Reason, but employ my Wonder: Yet I am glad such Verse has been writ for our Stage, since it has so happily exceeded those whom we seem'd to imitate. But while I give these Argu10 ments against Verse, I may seem faulty that I have not only writ ill ones, but writ any; but since it was the fashion, I was resolv'd, as in all indifferent things, not to appear singular, the danger of the vanity being greater than the error; and therefore I follow'd it as a Fashion, though 15 very far off. For the Italian Plays I have seen some of them which have been given me as the best, but they are so inconsiderable that the Particulars of them are not at all worthy to entertain the Reader; but as much as they are short of 20 others in this, they exceed in their other performances on the Stage, I mean their Opera's, which consisting of Musique and Painting, there's none but will believe it is much harder to equal them in that way than 'tis to excel them in the other. 25 The Spanish Plays pretend to more, but indeed are not much, being nothing but so many Novels put into Acts and Scenes, without the least attempt or design of making the Reader more concern'd than a well-told Tale might do; whereas a Poet that endeavours not to heighten the 30 Accidents which Fortune seems to scatter in a well-knit Design had better have told his tale by a Fire-side than presented it on a Stage. For these Times wherein we write, I admire to hear the Poets so often cry out upon and wittily (as they believe) 35 threaten their Judges, since the effects of their Mercy has so much exceeded their Justice, that others with me cannot but remember how many favourable Audiences some of our ill Plays have had; and when I consider how severe the former Age has been to some of the best of Mr Johnson's never to be equal'd Comedies, I cannot but 5 wonder why any Poet should speak of former Times, but rather acknowledg that the want of Abilities in this Age are largely supply'd with the Mercys of it. I deny not but there are some who resolve to like nothing; and such perhaps are not unwise, since by that general resolution 10 they may be certainly in the right sometimes, which perhaps they would seldom be if they should venture their Understandings in different Censures; and being forc'd to a general liking or disliking, lest they should discover too much their own weakness, 'tis to be expected 15 they would rather chuse to pretend to Judgment than good Nature, though I wish they could find better ways to shew either. But I forget my self, not considering, That while I entertain the Reader in the Entrance with what a good Play 20 should be, when he is come beyond the Entrance he must be treated with what ill Plays are: But in this I resemble the greatest part of the World, that better know how to talk of things than to perform them, and live short of their own Discourses. And now I seem like an eager Hunter that has long pursu'd a Chase after an inconsiderable Quarry, and gives over weary, as I do. 25 I II. PREFACE TO THE GREAT FAVOURITE, OR 1668 TO THE READER. CANNOT plead the usual excuse for publishing this trifle, which is commonly the Subject of most Prefaces, by charging it upon the importunity of friends, for, I confess, I was my selfe willing at the first desire of Mr. Herringman 5 to print it, not for any great opinion that I had entertain'd, but for the opinion that others were pleas'd to express : which being told me by some friends, I was concern'd to let the World judge what subject matter of offence was contain'd in it; some were pleas'd to believe little of it 10 mine but they are both obliging to me, though perhaps not intentionally; the last, by thinking there was any thing in it that was worth so ill design'd an Envy as to place it to another Author; the others, perhaps the best bred Informers, by continuing their displeasure towards 15 me, since I most gratefully acknowledge to have received some advantage in the opinion of the sober part of the World by the loss of theirs. For the Subject, I came accidentally to write upon it, for a Gentleman brought a Play to the Kings Company, 20 call'd The Duke of Lerma, and by them I was desir'd to peruse it and return my opinion whether I thought it fit for the Stage; after I had read it, I acquainted them that in my judgement it would not be of much use for such a design, since the contrivance scarce would merit the 25 name of a plot; and some of that, assisted by a disguise; and it ended abruptly and on the Person of Philip the there was fixt such a mean Character, and on the Daughter of the Duke of Lerma such a vitious one, that I cou'd not 3. but judge it unfit to be presented by any that had a respect, not only of Princes, but indeed to either Man or Woman; and about that time, being to go into the Countrey, I was persuaded by Mr. Hart to make it my diversion there that so great a hint might not be lost, as the Duke of Lerma 5 saving himself in his last extremity by his unexpected disguise, which is as well in the true story as the old Play; and besides that and the Names, my altering the most part of the Characters, and the whole design, made me uncapable to use much more, though perhaps written 10 with higher Stile and Thoughts than I cou'd attain to. I intend not to trouble myself nor the World any more in such Subjects, but take my leave of these my too long acquaintances, since that little fancy and liberty I once enjoy'd is now fetter'd in business of more unpleasant 15 Natures; yet were I free to apply my thoughts as my own choice directed them, I should hardly again venter into the Civil Wars of Censures. * Ubi-Nullos habitura Triumphos. In the next place, I must ingeniously confess that the 20 manner of Plays which now are in most esteem is beyond my pow'r to perform; nor do I condemn in the least any thing of what Nature soever that pleases, since nothing cou'd appear to me a ruder folly than to censure the satisfaction of others; I rather blame the unnecessary 25 understanding of some that have labour'd to give strict rules to things that are not Mathematical, and with such eagerness persuing their own seeming reasons that at last we are to apprehend such Argumentative Poets will grow as strict as Sancho Pancos Doctor was to our very 30 Appetites; for in the difference of Tragedy and Comedy, and of Fars it self, there can be no determination but by the Taste; nor in the manner of their Composure; and who ever wou'd endeavour to like or dislike by the Rules |