Satiric rhyme first sprang from selfish spleen. You doubt--see Dryden, Pope, St. Patrick's Dean. [7] Blank verse is now, with one consent, allied To Tragedy, and rarely quits her side. Though mad Almanzor [8] rhymed in Dryden's days, No sing-song Hero rants in modern plays; 120 Whilst modest Comedy her verse foregoes For jest and 'pun' [9] in very middling prose. Not that our Bens or Beaumonts show the worse, Or lose one point, because they wrote in verse. But so Thalia pleases to appear, [xxiv] Poor Virgin! damned some twenty times a year! Whate'er the scene, let this advice have weight:-- Adapt your language to your Hero's state. At times Melpomene forgets to groan, And brisk Thalia takes a serious tone; 130 Nor unregarded will the act pass by Where angry Townly [10] "lifts his voice on high." Again, our Shakespeare limits verse to Kings, When common prose will serve for common things; And lively Hal resigns heroic ire, [xxv]-- To "hollaing Hotspur" [11] and his sceptred sire. [xxvi] 'Tis not enough, ye Bards, with all your art, To polish poems; they must touch the heart: Where'er the scene be laid, whate'er the song, Still let it bear the hearer's soul along; 140 Command your audience or to smile or weep, Whiche'er may please you--anything but sleep. The Poet claims our tears; but, by his leave, Before I shed them, let me see 'him' grieve. If banished Romeo feigned nor sigh nor tear, Lulled by his languor, I could sleep or sneer. [xxvii] Sad words, no doubt, become a serious face, And men look angry in the proper place. At double meanings folks seem wondrous sly, And Sentiment prescribes a pensive eye; 150 For Nature formed at first the inward man, And actors copy Nature--when they can. She bids the beating heart with rapture bound, Raised to the Stars, or levelled with the ground; And for Expression's aid, 'tis said, or sung, [xxviii] She gave our mind's interpreter--the tongue, Who, worn with use, of late would fain dispense (At least in theatres) with common sense; O'erwhelm with sound the Boxes, Gallery, Pit, And raise a laugh with anything--but Wit. 160 To skilful writers it will much import, Whence spring their scenes, from common life or Court; Whether they seek applause by smile or tear, To draw a Lying Valet, [12] or a Lear, [13] A sage, or rakish youngster wild from school, A wandering Peregrine, or plain John Bull; All persons please when Nature's voice prevails, Scottish or Irish, born in Wilts or Wales. Or follow common fame, or forge a plot; [xxix] Who cares if mimic heroes lived or not! 170 One precept serves to regulate the scene: Make it appear as if it _might_ have _been_.