The question now is, which of us two has mistaken it?  And if it appear I have not, the World will suspect what gentleman that was, who was allowed to speak twice in Parliament, because he had not yet spoken to the question [p. 576]:  and, perhaps, conclude it to be the same, who (as ’tis reported) maintained a contradiction in terminis, in the face of three hundred persons.

But to return to Verse.  Whether it be natural or not in Plays, is a problem which is not demonstrable, of either side.  ’Tis enough for me, that he acknowledges that he had rather read good Verse than Prose [p. 575]:  for if all the enemies of Verse will confess as much, I shall not need to prove that it is natural.  I am satisfied, if it cause Delight; for Delight is the chief, if not the only end of Poesy.  Instruction can be admitted but in the second place; for Poesy only instructs as it delights.

’Tis true, that to Imitate Well is a Poet’s work:  but to affect the soul, and excite the passions, and, above all, to move Admiration [wondering astonishment] (which is the Delight of serious Plays), a bare Imitation will not serve.  The converse [conversation] therefore, which a Poet is to imitate, must be heightened with all the arts and ornaments of Poesy; and must be such as, strictly considered, could never be supposed [to be] spoken by any, without premeditation.

As for what he urges, that, A Play will still be supposed to be a composition of several persons speaking ex tempore; and that good verses are the hardest things, which can be imagined, to be so spoken_ [p. 575]:  I must crave leave to dissent from his opinion, as to the former part of it.  For, if I am not deceived, A Play is supposed to be the work of the Poet, imitating or representing the conversation of several persons:  and this I think to be as clear, as he thinks the contrary.

But I will be bolder, and do not doubt to make it good, though a paradox, that, One great reason why Prose is not to be used in serious Plays is because it is too near the nature of converse [conversation].  There may be too great a likeness.  As the most skilful painters affirm there may be too near a resemblance in a picture.  To take every lineament and feature is not to make an excellent piece, but to take so much only as will make a beautiful resemblance of the whole; and, with an ingenious flattery of Nature, to heighten the beauties of some parts, and hide the deformities of the rest.  For so, says HORACE—­

Ut pictura Poesis erit
Haec amat obscurum; vult haec sub luce videri,
Judicis argutum quae non formidat acumen. 
Et quae
Desperat, tractata nitescere posse, relinquit.