as the other. A good poet, he affirms, never
establishes the first line till he has sought out such a rhyme as may
fit the verse, already prepared to heighten the second. Many times the
close of the sense falls into the middle of the next verse, or further
off; and he may often avail himself of the same advantages in English
which Virgil had in Latin--he may break off in the hemistich, and begin
another line. The not observing these two last things, makes plays which
are writ in verse so tedious; for though most commonly the sense is to
be confined to the couplet, yet nothing that does run in the same
channel can please always. 'Tis like the murmuring of a stream, which,
not varying in the fall, causes at first attention, at last drowsiness.
Variety of cadence is the best rule, the greatest help to the actor and
refreshment of the audience.

If, then, verse may be made natural in itself, how becomes it unnatural
in a play? The stage, you say, is the representation of nature, and no
man in ordinary conversation speaks in rhyme. True; but neither does he
in blank verse. All the difference between them, when they are both
good, is the sound in one which the other wants; and if so, the
sweetness of it, and other advantages, handled in the Preface to the
"Rival Ladies," all stand good.

The dialogue of plays, you say, is presented as the effect of sudden
thought; but that no man speaks _extempore_ in rhyme, which cannot
therefore be proper in dramatic poesy, unless we could suppose all men
born so much more than poets. But it must not be forgotten that the
question regards the nature of a Serious Play, which is indeed the
representation of nature, but nature wrought up to an high pitch. The
plot, the characters, the wit, the passions, the descriptions, are all
exalted above the level of common converse, as high as the imagination
of the poet can carry them, with proportion to verisimility. Tragedy is
wont to image to us the minds and fortunes of noble persons; and to
portray these exactly, heroic rhyme is nearest nature, as being the
noblest kind of modern verse. Verse, it is true, is not the effect of
sudden thought; but this hinders not that sudden thought may be
represented in verse, since these thoughts are such as must be higher
than nature can raise them without premeditation, especially to a
continuance of them, even out of verse; and consequently you cannot
imagine them to have been sudden, either in the poet or th