confess this is no reason why
a man should do an idle thing, nor indeed any good excuse for it when
done; yet it reconciles the uses of such authority and goodness to the
necessities of our follies, and is a sort of poetical logic, which at
this time I would make use of, to argue your lordship into a protection
of this play. It is the first offence I have committed in this kind, or
indeed, in any kind of poetry, though not the first made public, and
therefore I hope will the more easily be pardoned. But had it been
acted, when it was first written, more might have been said in its
behalf: ignorance of the town and stage would then have been excuses in a
young writer, which now almost four years' experience will scarce allow
of. Yet I must declare myself sensible of the good nature of the town,
in receiving this play so kindly, with all its faults, which I must own
were, for the most part, very industriously covered by the care of the
players; for I think scarce a character but received all the advantage it
would admit of from the justness of the action.

As for the critics, my lord, I have nothing to say to, or against, any of
them of any kind: from those who make just exceptions, to those who find
fault in the wrong place. I will only make this general answer in behalf
of my play (an answer which Epictetus advises every man to make for
himself to his censurers), viz.: 'That if they who find some faults in
it, were as intimate with it as I am, they would find a great many more.'
This is a confession, which I needed not to have made; but however, I can
draw this use from it to my own advantage: that I think there are no
faults in it but what I do know; which, as I take it, is the first step
to an amendment.

Thus I may live in hopes (sometime or other) of making the town amends;
but you, my lord, I never can, though I am ever your lordship's most
obedient and most humble servant,

WILL. CONGREVE.

TO MR. CONGREVE.

When virtue in pursuit of fame appears,
And forward shoots the growth beyond the years.
We timely court the rising hero's cause,
And on his side the poet wisely draws,
Bespeaking him hereafter by applause.
The days will come, when we shall all receive
Returning interest from what now we give,
Instructed and supported by that praise
And reputation which we strive to raise.
Nature so coy, so hardly to be wooed,
Flies, like a mistress, but to be pursued.
O Congreve! boldly follow on the chase: