Ben Jonson - The Magnetick Lady. Act 2. Chorus. lyrics

CHORUS. Dam. But whom doth your poet mean now by this -- Mr. Bias? what Lord's Secretary doth he purpose to personate, or perstringe? Boy. You might as well ask me, What Alderman, or Alderman's Mate, he meant by Sir Moath Interest? or what eminent Lawyer, by the ridiculous Mr. Practice? who hath rather his name invented for laughter, than any offence or injury can stick on the reverend Proffesors of the Law: And so the wise ones will think. Pro. It is an insiduous question, Brother Damplay! Iniquity it self would not have urg'd it. It is picking the Lock of the Scene, not opening it the fair way with a Key. A play, though it apparel, not present Vices in general, flies from all particularities in Persons. Would you ask of Plautus, and Terence, (if they both liv'd now) who were Davus, or Pseudolus in the Scene? who Pyrogopolinicies, or Thraso? who Euclid of Menedemus? Boy. Yes, he would: and inquire of Martial, or any other Epigrammatist, whom he meant by Titius, or Sejus, (the common John a Noke, or John a Stile) under whom they note all Vices and Errors, taxable to the times? As if there could not be a name for a Folly fitted to the Stage, but there must be a Person in nature found out to own it. Dam. Why, I can phant'sie a Person to my self, Boy, who shall hinder me? Boy. And, in not publishing him, you do no man an injury. But if you will utter your own ill meaning on that Person, under the Author's words, you make a Libel of his Comedy. Dam. O, he told us that in Prologue, long since. Boy. If you do the same reprehensible ill things, still the same reprehension will serve you, though you heard it afore: They are his own words: I can invent no better, nor he. Pro. It is the solemn vice of interpretation, that deforms the Figure of many a fair Scene, by drawing it Awry; and, indeed, is the civil murder of most good Plays: If I see a thing vively presented on the Stage, that the Gla** of custom (which is Comedy) is so held up to me by the Poet, as I can therein view the daily examples of Mens lives, and mages of truth, in their Manners, so drawn for my delight, or profit, as I may (either way) use them: and will I, rather (than make the true use) hunt out the Persons to defame, by my malice of misapplying? and imperil the innocence and candor of the Author, by his calumny? It is an unjust way of hearing and beholding Plays, this, and most unbecoming a Gentleman to appear malignantly witty in anothers Work. Boy. They are no other but narrow, and shrunk natures, shrivel'd up, poor things, that cannot think well of themselves, who dare to tetract others. That Signature is upon them, and it will last. A half-witted barbarism! which no Barbers Art, or his Balls, will ever expunge or take out. Dam. Why, boy? This were a strange Empire, or rather a Tyranny, you would entitle your Poet to, over Fentlemen, that they should come to hear, and see Plays, and say nothing for their Money. Boy. O, yes, say what you will; so it be to purpose and in place. Dam. Can any thing be out of purpose at a Play? I, see no reason, if I come here, and give my eighteen Pence, or two Shillings for my Seat, but I should take it out in censure, on the Stage. Boy. Your two Shilling worth is allow'd you: but you will take your ten Shilling worth, your twenty Shilling worth, and more: and teach others (about you) to do the like, that follow your leading Face; as if you were to cry up or down every Scene by confederacy, be it right or wrong. Dam. Who should teach us the right, or wrong at a Play? Boy. If your own Science cannot do it, or the love of Modesty, and Truth; all other intreaties, or attempts -- are vain. You are fitter Spectators for the Bears, than us, or Puppets. This is a popular ignorance indeed, somewhat better apparel'd in you, than the People: but a hard-handed, and stiff ignorance, worthy a Trewel, or a Hammer-man; and not only fit to be scorn'd, but to be triumph'd ore. Dam. By whom, Boy? Boy. No particular, but the general neglect, and silence. Good Master Damplay, be your self still, without a second: few here are of your opinion to day, I hope; to morrow, I am sure there will be none, when they have ruminated this. Pro. Let us mind what you come for, the Play, which will draw on to the Epitasis now.