“But I need not go so far, to prove that Rhyme, as it succeeds to all other offices of Greek and Latin Verse, so especially to this of Plays; since the custom of all nations, at this day, confirms it.  All the French, Italian, and Spanish Tragedies are generally writ in it; and, sure[ly], the Universal Consent of the most civilised parts of the world ought in this, as it doth in other customs, [to] include the rest.

“But perhaps, you may tell me, I have proposed such a way to make Rhyme natural; and, consequently, proper to Plays, as is impracticable; and that I shall scarce find six or eight lines together in a Play, where the words are so placed and chosen, as is required to make it natural.

“I answer, no Poet need constrain himself, at all times, to it.  It is enough, he makes it his general rule.  For I deny not but sometimes there may be a greatness in placing the words otherwise; and sometimes they may sound better.  Sometimes also, the variety itself is excuse enough.  But if, for the most part, the words be placed, as they are in the negligence of Prose; it is sufficient to denominate the way practicable:  for we esteem that to be such, which, in the trial, oftener succeeds than misses.  And thus far, you may find the practice made good in many Plays:  where, you do not remember still! that if you cannot find six natural Rhymes together; it will be as hard for you to produce as many lines in Blank Verse, even among the greatest of our poets, against which I cannot make some reasonable exception.

“And this, Sir, calls to my remembrance the beginning of your discourse, where you told us we should never find the audience favourable to this kind of writing, till we could produce as good plays in Rhyme, as BEN.  JOHNSON, FLETCHER, and SHAKESPEARE had writ out of it [p. 558].  But it is to raise envy to the Living, to compare them with the Dead.  They are honoured, and almost adored by us, as they deserve; neither do I know any so presumptuous of themselves, as to contend with them.  Yet give me leave to say thus much, without injury to their ashes, that not only we shall never equal them; but they could never equal themselves, were they to rise, and write again.  We acknowledge them our Fathers in Wit:  but they have ruined their estates themselves before they came to their children’s hands.  There is scarce a Humour, a Character, or any kind of Plot; which they have not blown upon.  All comes sullied or wasted to us:  and were they to entertain this Age, they could not make so plenteous treatments out of such decayed fortunes.  This, therefore, will be a good argument to us, either not to write at all; or to attempt some other way.  There are no Bays to be expected in their walks, Tentanda via est qua me quoque possum tollere humo.

“This way of Writing in Verse, they have only left free to us.  Our Age is arrived to a perfection in it, which they never knew:  and which (if we may guess by what of theirs we have seen in Verse, as the Faithful Shepherdess and Sad Shepherd) ’tis probable they never could have reached.  For the Genius of every Age is different:  and though ours excel in this; I deny not but that to imitate Nature in that perfection which they did in Prose [i.e., Blank Verse] is a greater commendation than to write in Verse exactly.