I Send your Excellency here a short Discourse of the English Stage, (which if you pleas'd you could far better treat of then my self) but before I begin it, I will speak a word or two of thôse of other Countreys.

About the midst of the last Century, Playes, after a long discontinuance, and civil death in a manner, began to be reviv'd again, first in Italy by Guarino, Tasso, de Porta, and others; and after­wards in Spain by Lopes de Vega; the French be­ginning later by reason of their Civil Wars, Car­dinal [Page] Richlieu being the first that brought them into that Vouge and Esteem as now they are; well knowing how much the Acting noble and heroick Playes, conferr'd to the instilling a no­ble and heroick Spirit into the Nation. For ûs, we began before them, and if since they seem to have out-stript us, 'tis because our Stage ha's stood at a stand this many years; nor may we doubt, but now we shall soon out-strip them again, if we hold on but as we begin. Of the Dutch I speak nothing, because they are but slow, and follow other Nations onely afar off: But to return unto our present subject.

Playes (which so flourisht amongst the Greeks, and afterwards amongst the Romans) were al­most wholly abolished when their Empire was first converted to Christianity, and their Thea­ters, together with their Temples, for the most part, demolished as Reliques of Paganisme, some few onely reserved and dedicate to the service of the True God, as they had been to their false gods before; from which time to the last Age, they Acted nothing here, but Playes of the holy Scripture, or Saints Lives; and that without any certain Theaters or set Companies, till about the beginning of Queen Elizabeths Reign, they began here to assemble into Companies, and set up Theaters, first in the City, (as in the Inn­yards of the Cross-Keyes, and Bull in Grace [Page] and Bishops-Gate Street at this day is to be seen) till that Fanatick Spirit which then began with the Stage, and after ended with the Throne, banisht them thence into the Suburbs, as after they did the Kingdom, in the beginning of our Civil Wars. In which time, Playes were so lit­tle incompatible with Religion, and the Thea­ter with the Church, as on Week-dayes after Vespers, both the Children of the Chappel and St. Pauls, Acted Playes, the one in White-Friers, the other behinde the Convocation-house in Pauls, till people growing more precise, and Playes more licentious, the Theatre of Pauls was quite supprest, and that of the Children of the Chappel, converted to the use of the Children of the Revels.

In this time were Poets and Actors in their greatest flourish, Iohnson, Shakespear, with Beaumont and Fletcher their Poets, and Field and Burbidge their Actors.

For Playes, Shakespear was one of the first, who inverted the Dramatick Stile, from dull Hi­story to quick Comedy, upon whom Iohnson re­fin'd; as Beaumont and Fletcher first writ in the Heroick way, upon whom Suckling and others endeavoured to refine agen▪ one saying wittily of his Aglaura, that 'twas full of fine flowers, but they seem'd rather stuck, then growing there; as another of Shakespear's writings, that 'twas [Page] a fine Garden, but it wanted weeding.

There are few of our English Playes (except­ing onely some few of Iohnsons) without some faults or other; and if the French have fewer then our English, 'tis because they confine them­selves to narrower limits, and consequently have less liberty to erre.

The chief faults of ours, are our huddling too much matter together, and making them too long and intricate; we imagining we never have intrigue enough, till we lose our selves and Auditors, who shu'd be led in a Maze, but not a Mist; and through turning and winding wayes, but sô still, as they may finde their way at last.

A good Play shu'd be like a good stuff, closely and evenly wrought, without any breakes, thrums, or loose ends in 'um, or like a good Pi­cture well painted and designed; the Plot or Con­trivement, the Design, the Writing, the Coloris, and Counterplot, the Shaddowings, with other Embellishments: or finally, it shu'd be like a well contriv'd Garden, cast into its Walks and Coun­terwalks, betwixt an Alley and a Wilderness, nei­ther too plain, nor too confus'd. Of all Arts, that of the Dramatick Poet is the most difficult and most subject to censure; for in all others, they write onely of some particular subject, as the Ma­thematician of Mathematicks, or Philosopher of [Page] Philosophy; but in that, the Poet must write of every thing, and every one undertakes to judge of it.

A Dramatick Poet is to the Stage as a Pilot to the Ship; and to the Actors, as an Architect to the Builders, or Master to his Schollars: he is to be a good moral Philosopher, but yet more learned in Men then Books. He is to be a wise, as well as a witty Man, and a good man, as well as a good Po­et; and I'de allow him to be so far a good fellow too, to take a chearful cup to whet his wits, so he take not so much to dull 'um, and whet 'um quite away.

To compare our English Dramatick Poets to­gether (without taxing them) Shakespear excelled in a natural Vein, Fletcher in Wit, and Iohnson in Gravity and ponderousness of Style; whose one­ly fault was, he was too elaborate; and had he mixt less erudition with his Playes, they had been more pleasant and delightful then they are. Com­paring him with Shakespear, you shall see the diffe­rence betwixt Nature and Art; and with Fletcher, the difference betwixt Wit and Judgement: Wit being an exuberant thing, like Nilus, never more commendable then when it overflowes; but Judgement a stayed and reposed thing, alwayes containing it self within its bounds and limits.

Beaumont and Fletcher were excellent in their kinde, but they often err'd against Decorum, sel­dom [Page] representing a valiant man without some­what of the Braggadoccio, nor an honourable wo­man without somewhat of Dol Common in her: to say nothing of their irreverent representing Kings persons on the Stage, who shu'd never be represented, but with Revêrence: Besides, Fletcher was the first who introduc't that witty obscenity in his Playes, which like poison infused in plea­sant liquor, is alwayes the more dangerous the more delightful. And here to speak a word or two of Wit, it is the spirit and quintessence of speech, extracted out of the substance of the thing we speak of, having nothing of the superfice, or dross of words (as clenches, quibbles, gingles, and such like trifles have) it is that, in pleasant and facetious discourse, as Eloquence is in grave and serious; not learnt by Art and Precept, but Nature and Company. 'Tis in vain to say any more of it; for if I could tell you what it were, it would not be what it is; being somewhat above expression, and such a volatil thing, as 'tis alto­gether as volatil to describe.

It was the happiness of the Actors of those Times to have such Poets as these to instruct them, and write for them; and no less of those Poets to have such docile and excellent Actors to Act their Playes, as a Field and Burbidge; of whom we may say, that he was a delightful Pro­teus, so wholly transforming himself into his Part, [Page] and putting off himself with his Cloathes, as he never (not so much as in the Tyring-house) as­sum'd himself again until the Play was done: there being as much difference betwixt him and one of our common Actors, as between a Ballad­singer who onely mouths it, and an excellent sin­ger, who knows all his Graces, and can artfully vary and modulate his Voice, even to know how much breath he is to give to every syllable. He had all the parts of an excellent Orator, (anima­ting his words with speaking, and Speech with Action) his Auditors being never more delight­ed then when he spake, nor more sorry then when he held his peace; yet even thên, he was an excellent Actor still, never falling in his Part when he had done speaking; but with his looks and gesture, maintaining it still unto the heighth, he imagining Age quod agis, onely spoke to him: so as those who call him a Player do him wrong, no man being less idle then he, whose whole life is no­thing else but action; with only this difference from other mens, that as what is but a Play to them, is his Business; so their business is but a play to him.

Now, for the difference betwixt our Thea­ters and those of former times, they were but plain and simple, with no other Scenes, nor Decorations of the Stage, but onely old Tape­stry, and the Stage strew'd with Rushes, (with their Habits accordingly) whereas ours now for [Page] cost and ornament are arriv'd to the heighth of Magnificence; but that which makes our Stage the better, makes our Playes the worse perhaps, they striving now to make them more for sight, then hearing; whence that solid joy of the interior is lost, and that benefit which men formerly receiv'd from Playes, from which they seldom or never went away, but far better and wiser then they came.

The Stage being a harmless and innocent Re­creation; where the minde is recreated and de­lighted, and that Ludus Literarum, or School of good Language and Behaviour, that makes Youth soonest Man, and man soonest good and vertuous, by joyning example to precept, and the pleasure of seeing to that of hearing. Its chiefest end is, to render Folly ridiculous, Vice odious, and Vertue and Noblenesse so amiable and lovely, as, every one shu'd be delighted and enamoured with it; from which when it de­flects; as, corruptio optimi pessima: of the best it becomes the worst of Recreations. And this his Majesty well understood, when after his happy Restauration, he took such care to purge it from all vice and obscenity; and would to God he had found all bodies and humours as apt and easie to be purg'd and reform'd as thât.

For Scenes and Machines they are no new in­vention, our Masks and some of our Playes in [Page] former times (though not so ordinary) having had as good or rather better then any we have now.

They are excellent helps of imagination, most grateful deceptions of the sight, and grace­ful and becoming Ornaments of the Stage, transporting you easily without lassitude from one place to another; or rather by a kinde of de­lightful Magick, whilst you sit still, does bring the place to you. Of this curious Art the Itali­ans (this latter age) are the greatest masters, the French good proficients, and we in England one­ly Schollars and Learners yet, having proceeded no further then to bare painting, and not arriv'd to the stupendious wonders of your great Ingeni­ers, especially not knowing yet how to place our Lights, for the more advantage and illuminating of the Scenes.

And thus much suffices it briefly to have said of all that concerns our Modern Stage, onely to give others occasion to say more.