lled, "The Great Favourite, or, The Duke
of Lerma;" the author of which, a noble and most ingenious person, has
done me the favour to make some observations and animadversions upon
my Dramatic Essay. I must confess he might have better consulted his
reputation, than by matching himself with so weak an adversary. But
if his honour be diminished in the choice of his antagonist, it is
sufficiently recompensed in the election of his cause: which being the
weaker, in all appearance, as combating the received opinions of
the best ancient and modern authors, will add to his glory, if he
overcome; and to the opinion of his generosity, if he be vanquished,
since he engages at so great odds; and, so like a cavalier, undertakes
the protection of the weaker party. I have only to fear, on my
own behalf, that so good a cause as mine may not suffer by my ill
management, or weak defence; yet I cannot in honour but take the glove
when it is offered me; though I am only a champion by succession,
and no more able to defend the right of Aristotle and Horace, than an
infant Dimock[A] to maintain the title of a king.

[Footnote A: The family of Dimock, or Dymock, are hereditary champions
of England; and, as such, obliged to maintain the king's title in
single combat against all challengers.]

For my own concernment in the controversy, it is so small, that I can
easily be contented to be driven from a few notions of dramatic poesy;
especially by one, who has the reputation of understanding all things:
and I might justly make that excuse for my yielding to him, which the
philosopher made to the emperor; why should I offer to contend with
him, who is master of more than twenty legions of arts and sciences?
But I am forced to fight, and therefore it will be no shame to be
overcome.

Yet I am so much his servant, as not to meddle with any thing which
does not concern me in his preface: therefore I leave the good sense
and other excellencies of the first twenty lines, 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 justly belong to none
but him. Indeed they must be extremely 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 hung upon obdurate rocks.

After this, let detraction do its worst; for if this be