Yet, I am so much his servant as not to meddle with anything which does not concern me in his Preface.  Therefore, I leave the good sense, and other excellencies of the first twenty lines [i.e., of the Preface, see p. 573] to be considered by the critics.

As for the Play of The Duke of LERMA; having so much altered and beautified it, as he has done, it can be justly belong to none but him.  Indeed, they must be extreme[ly] ignorant as well as envious, who would rob him of that honour:  for you see him putting in his claim to it, even in the first two lines.

    Repulse upon repulse, like waves thrown back,
    That slide to hang upon obdurate rocks.

After this, let Detraction do its worst! for if this be not his, it deserves to be.  For my part, I declare for Distributive Justice! and from this, and what follows, he certainly deserves those advantages, which he acknowledges, to have received from the opinion of sober men.

In the next place, I must beg leave to observe his great address in courting the Reader to his party.  For, intending to assault all Poets both Ancient and Modern, he discovers not his whole Design at once; but seems only to aim at me, and attack me on my weakest side, my Defence of Verse.

To begin with me.  He gives me the compellation of “The Author of a Dramatic Essay”; which is a little Discourse in dialogue, for the most part borrowed from the observations of others.  Therefore, that I may not be wanting to him in civility, I return his compliment, by calling him, “The Author of The Duke of LERMA.”

But, that I may pass over his salute, he takes notice [p. 575] of my great pains to prove “Rhyme as natural in a serious Play; and more effectual than Blank Verse” [p. 561].  Thus, indeed, I did state the question, but he tells me, I pursue that which I call natural, in a wrong application; for ’tis not the question whether Rhyme or not Rhyme be best or most natural for a serious Subject; but what is nearest the nature of that it represents.

If I have formerly mistaken the question; I must confess my ignorance so far, as to say I continue still in my mistake.  But he ought to have proved that I mistook it; for ’tis yet but gratis dictum.  I still shall think I have gained my point, if I can prove that “Rhyme is best or most natural for a serious Subject.”

As for the question, as he states it, “Whether Rhyme be nearest the nature of what it represents”; I wonder he should think me so ridiculous as to dispute whether Prose or Verse be nearest to ordinary conversation?

It still remains for him, to prove his Inference, that, Since Verse is granted to be more remote than Prose from ordinary conversation; therefore no serious Plays ought to be writ in Verse:  and when he clearly makes that good, I will acknowledge his victory as absolute as he can desire it.