 | King Edgar and Alfreda |  |
EPILOGUE.
Fain
I would ask your Judgments of the Play,
But you imploy your Wit still the wrong way.
You reckon up the Faults tho near so small,
Pass by the Good, and so like none at all.
You Criticks are like Sives, you onely shew
The Bran, and let the finest Flower run thro.
But do not now impute it for a Crime,
That we do mention Guns in Edgar's time;
Nor let the Critick that is deeply read
In Baker, Stow, and Hollinshead,
Cry Dam-me, the Poet is mistaken here,
For Ethelwold was kill'd hunting the Deer,
But you imploy your Wit still the wrong way.
You reckon up the Faults tho near so small,
Pass by the Good, and so like none at all.
You Criticks are like Sives, you onely shew
The Bran, and let the finest Flower run thro.
But do not now impute it for a Crime,
That we do mention Guns in Edgar's time;
Nor let the Critick that is deeply read
In Baker, Stow, and Hollinshead,
Cry Dam-me, the Poet is mistaken here,
For Ethelwold was kill'd hunting the Deer,
To these Objections this he bid me say,
They writ a Chronicle, but he a Play.
Poets may as they please with Truth make bold,
And Stories to the best advantage mould.
How easily might the Remedy have been,
By alt'ring Names, or changing of the Scene?
They writ a Chronicle, but he a Play.
Poets may as they please with Truth make bold,
And Stories to the best advantage mould.
How easily might the Remedy have been,
By alt'ring Names, or changing of the Scene?
Tho not these faults, yet others you'd have found;
Your Censures give to every Play a wound.
Leave off this finding fault, it spoils Delight;
Commend what's good t'encourage them that write.
Your Censures give to every Play a wound.
Leave off this finding fault, it spoils Delight;
Commend what's good t'encourage them that write.
When ye wou'd pleasure in enjoyment find,
Who calls his Mistresses Defects to mind?
We'l think upon her Charms, the more to raise
The Fancy to a Pitch;
As 'tis in Love, so let it be your rule at Playes.
Who calls his Mistresses Defects to mind?
We'l think upon her Charms, the more to raise
The Fancy to a Pitch;
As 'tis in Love, so let it be your rule at Playes.
| King Edgar and Alfreda | |