in Rhyme [p. 569]. 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 offers to be made perfect by pains and judgement.

Against this, I can raise no argument, but my Lord of Orrery's writings.
In whose Verse, the greatness of the Majesty seems unsullied with the
cares, and his inimitable Phancy descends to us in such easy expressions,
that they seem 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 easy care, preserve a steadiness in
motion. But this particular 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 written for our Stage; since
it has so happily exceeded those whom we seemed to imitate.

But while I give these arguments 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 resolved, as in all indifferent things, not to appear singular: the
danger of the vanity being greater than the error. And therefore, I
followed it as a fashion; though 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 others, in this; they exceed in their other performances on the
Stage. I mean their Operas: which, consisting of Music and Painting;
there's none but will believe it as much harder to equal them in that
way, than 'tis to excel them in the other.

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 concerned than a well-told
tale might do. Whereas, a Poet that endeavours not to heighten the
accidents which Fortune seems to scatter in a well-knit Design, had
better have told his tale by a fireside, 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) threaten their judges; since
the effects of their mercy has so much exceeded their justice, that
others with me, cannot but reme