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 enjoyed, is now fettered in business of more unpleasant natures.  Yet, were I free to apply my thoughts, as my own choice directed them; I should hardly again venture into the Civil Wars of Censures.

    Ubi ...  Nullos habitura triumphos.

In the next place.  I must ingeniously confess that the manner of Plays, which now are in most esteem, is beyond my power to perform [p. 587]; nor do I condemn, in the least, anything, of what nature soever, that pleases; since nothing could appear to me a ruder folly, than to censure the satisfaction of others.  I rather blame the unnecessary understanding of some, that have laboured to give strict Rules to things that are not mathematical; and, with such eagerness, pursuing their own seeming reasons, that, at last, we are to apprehend such Argumentative Poets will grow as strict as SANCHO PANZA’s Doctor was, to our very appetites:  for in the difference of Tragedy and Comedy, and of Fars [farce] itself, there can be no determination, but by the taste; nor in the manner of their composure.  And, whoever would endeavour to like or dislike, by the Rules of others; he will be as unsuccessful, as if he should try to be persuaded into a power of believing, not what he must, but what others direct him to believe.

But I confess, ’tis not necessary for Poets to study strict Reason:  since they are so used to a greater latitude [pp. 568, 588], than is allowed by that severe Inquisition, that they must infringe their own Jurisdiction, to profess themselves obliged to argue well.  I will not, therefore, pretend to say, why I writ this Play, some Scenes in Blank Verse, others in Rhyme; since I have no better a reason to give than Chance, which waited upon my present Fancy:  and I expect no better reason from any Ingenious Person, than his Fancy, for which he best relishes.

I cannot, therefore, but beg leave of the Reader, to take a little notice of the great pains the author of an Essay of Dramatic Poesy has taken, to prove “Rhyme as natural in a serious Play, and more effectual than Blank Verse” [pp. 561, 581].  Thus he states the question, but pursues that which he calls natural, in a wrong application:  for ’tis not the question, whether Rhyme or not Rhyme be best or most natural for a grave or serious Subject:  but what is nearest the nature of that which it presents.

Now, after all the endeavours of that Ingenious Person, a Play will still be supposed to be a Composition of several persons speaking ex tempore and ’tis as certain, that good verses are the hardest things that can be imagined, to be so spoken [p. 582].  So that if any will be pleased to impose the rule of measuring things to be the best, by being nearest Nature; it is granted, by consequence, that which is most remote from the thing supposed, must needs be most improper:  and, therefore, I may justly say, that both I and the question were equally mistaken.  For I do own I had rather read good verses, than either Blank Verse or Prose; and therefore the author did himself injury, if he like Verse so well in Plays, to lay down Rules to raise arguments, only unanswerable against himself.