seen. I have taken up, laid down, and resum'd as often as I pleas'd the same Subject: and this loose proceeding I shall use thro' all this Prefatory Dedication. Yet all this while I have been Sailing with some Side Wind or other toward the Point I propos'd in the beginning; the Greatness and Excellency of an Heroick Poem, with some of the Difficulties which attend that Work. The Comparison therefore which I made betwixt the Epopee and the Tragedy, was not altogether a Digression; for tis concluded on all hands, that they are both the Master-pieces of Humane Wit.
In the mean time I may be bold to draw this Corollary from what has been already said, That the File of Heroick Poets is very short: all are not such who have assum'd that lofty Title in Ancient or Modern Ages, or have been so esteem'd by their partial and ignorant Admirers.
There have been but one great Ilias, and one Æneis, in so many Ages. The next, but the next with a long Interval betwixt, was the Jerusalem: I mean not so much in distance of Time, as in Excellency. After these three are entred, some Lord Chamberlain should be appointed, some Critick of Authority shou'd be set before the Door, to keep out a Crowd of little Poets, who press for Admission, and are not of Quality. Mævius wou'd be deafning your Lordship's Ears, with his
Fortunam Priami cantabo, & Nobile Bellum.
meer Fustian, as Horace would tell you from behind, without pressing forward, and more Smoak than Fire. Pulci, Boyardo, and Ariosto, wou'd cry out, make room for the Italian Poets, the Descendants of Virgil in a Right-Line. Father Le Moin, with his Saint Louis; and Scudery with his Alarick, for a Godly King, and a Gothick Conquerour; and Chapelain wou'd take it ill,
