en_? This nicking of him, who spoke
before, both in Sound and Measure, is so great a happiness [_felicity_],
that you must, at least, suppose the persons of your Play to be poets,
_Arcades omnes et cantare pares et respondere parati_. They must have
arrived to the degree of _quicquid conabar dicere_, to make verses,
almost whether they will or not.

"If they are anything below this, it will look rather like the design of
two, than the answer of one. It will appear that your Actors hold
intelligence together; that they perform their tricks, like fortune
tellers, by confederacy. The hand of Art will be too visible in it,
against that maxim of all professions, _Ars est celare artem_; 'that it
is the greatest perfection of Art, to keep itself undiscovered.'

"Nor will it serve you to object, that however you manage it, 'tis still
known to be a Play; and consequently the dialogue of two persons,
understood to be the labour of one Poet. For a Play is still an Imitation
of Nature. We know we are to be deceived, and we desire to be so; but no
man ever was deceived, but with a _probability of Truth_; for who will
suffer a gross lie to be fastened upon him? Thus, we sufficiently
understand that the scenes [_i.e., the scenery which was just now coming
into use on the English Stage_], which represent cities and countries to
us, are not really such, but only painted on boards and canvas. But shall
that excuse the ill painture [_painting_] or designment of them? Nay
rather, ought they not to be laboured with so much the more diligence and
exactness, to help the Imagination? since the Mind of Man doth naturally
bend to, and seek after Truth; and therefore the nearer anything comes to
the Imitation of it, the more it pleases.

"Thus, you see! your Rhyme is incapable of expressing the greatest
thoughts, naturally; and the lowest, it cannot, with any grace. For what
is more unbefitting the majesty of Verse, than 'to call a servant,' or
'bid a door be shut' in Rhyme? And yet, this miserable necessity you are
forced upon!

"'But Verse,' you say, 'circumscribes a quick and luxuriant Fancy, which
would extend itself too far, on every subject; did not the labour which
is required to well-turned and polished Rhyme, set bounds to it [pp.
492-493]. Yet this argument, if granted, would only prove, that _we may
write better in Verse_, but not _more naturally_.

"Neither is it able to evince that. For he who _wants_ judgement to
confine his Fa