I
have the farewell of a general, with a truncheon in his hand, dying for
love, in six lines. I have the principles of a politician (who does all
the mischief in the play) together with his declaration on the vanity of
ambition in his last moments, expressed in a page and a half. I have all
my oaths ready, and my similes want nothing but application. I won't
pretend to give you an account of the plot, it being the same design
upon which all tragedies have been writ for several years last past; and
from the beginning of the first scene, the frequenters of the house may
know, as well as the author, when the battle is to be fought, the lady
to yield, and the hero to proceed to his wedding and coronation. Besides
these advantages which I have in readiness, I have an eminent tragedian
very much my friend, who shall come in, and go through the whole five
acts, without troubling me for one sentence, whether he is to kill or be
killed, love or be loved, win battles or lose them, or whatever other
tragical performance I shall please to assign him.
From my own Apartment, May 30.
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