other side, and without further considering him than I have the rest 260 of my illiterate censors, whom I have disdain'd to answer because they are not qualified for judges. It remains that I acquaint the reader that I have endeavoured in this play to follow the practise of the ancients, who, as Mr. Rymer has judiciously observ'd, are and ought to be our masters. Horace likewise gives it for a rule in his 265

Art of Poetry :

Vos exemplaria Græca

Nocturnâ versate manu, versate diurnâ.

Yet, though their models are regular, they are too little for English tragedy, which requires to be built in a larger compass. I could 270 give an instance in the Oedipus Tyrannus, which was the masterpiece of Sophocles; but I reserve it for a more fit occasion, which I hope to have hereafter. In my stile I have profess'd to imitate the divine Shakespeare; which that I might perform more freely, I have disencumber'd my self from rhyme. Not that I condemn my former 275 way, but that this is more proper to my present purpose. I hope I need not to explain my self, that I have not copy'd my author servilely; words and phrases must of necessity receive a change in succeeding ages; but 'tis almost a miracle that much of his language remains so pure; and that he who began dramatique poetry amongst 280 us, untaught by any, and as Ben Johnson tells us, without learning, should by the force of his own genius perform so much that in a manner he has left no praise for any who come after him. The occasion is fair, and the subject would be pleasant, to handle the difference of stiles betwixt him and Fletcher, and wherein and how 285 far they are both to be imitated. But since I must not be over-confident of my own performance after him, it will be prudence in me to be silent. Yet I hope I may affirm, and without vanity, that by imitating him I have excell'd my self throughout the play; and particularly, that I prefer the scene betwixt Anthony and Ventidius in 290 the first act to any thing which I have written in this kind.

PROLOGUE to Anthony and Cleopatra.

What flocks of critiques hover here to day,
As vultures wait on armies for their prey,
All gaping for the carcass of a play !
With croaking notes they bode some dire event,
And follow dying poets by the scent.

Ours gives himself for gone; y'have watched your
time!

He fights this day unarm'd—without his rhyme;
And brings a tale which often has been told,

As sad as Dido's and almost as old.

His heroe, whom you wits his bully call,

Bates of his mettle and scarce rants at all:
He's somewhat lewd, but a well-meaning mind;
Weeps much; fights little; but is wondrous kind.
In short, a pattern and companion fit
For all the keeping Tonyes of the pit.
I cou'd name more: a wife, and mistress too ;
Both (to be plain) too good for most of you:
The wife well-natur'd, and the mistress true.

Now, poets, if your fame has been his care,
Allow him all the candour you can spare.
A brave man scorns to quarrel once a day,
Like Hectors in at every petty fray.

Prologue. In Q1 precedes Epistle and Preface.

5

IO

15

20

Let those find fault whose wit's so very small,
They've need to show that they can think at all;
Errours like straws upon the surface flow;
He who would search for pearls must dive below.
Fops may have leave to level all they can,
As pigmies wou'd be glad to lopp a man.
Half-wits are fleas ; so little and so light,

26

We scarce cou'd know they live, but that they bite. 30
But, as the rich, when tir'd with daily feasts,
For change become their next poor tenants ghests;
Drink hearty draughts of ale from plain brown
bowls,

And snatch the homely rasher from the coals
So you, retiring from much better cheer,
For once may venture to do penance here.
And since that plenteous autumn now is past,
Whose grapes and peaches have indulg'd your taste,
Take in good part, from our poor poets board,
Such rivell'd fruits as winter can afford.

35

40

All for Love;

or, the

World well Lost.

Persons. In Q1 precedes Epistle, following Prologue.