The Magnetick Lady. Act 4. Chorus.

CHORUS.

Dam. Troth, I am one of those that labour with the
same longing, for it is almost pucker'd, and
pull'd into that knot, by your Poet, which I cannot
easily, with all the strength of my imagination, unty.

Boy. Like enough, nor is it in your office to be troubled
or perplexed with it, but to sit still, and expect.
The more your Imagination busies it self, the more it is
Intangled, especially if (as I told in the beggining)
you happen on the wrong end.

Pro. He hath said sufficient, Brother Damplay;
our parts that are to await the process, and events of things, as the
poet presents them, not as we would corruptly fashion
them. We come here to behold Plays, and censure
them, as they are made, and fitted for us; not to
beslave our own thoughts, with censorious Spittle
tempering the Poets Clay, as we were to mould every
Scene anew: That were a meer Plastick, or Potters
ambition, most unbecoming the name of a Gentleman.

No, let us mark, and not lose the business on foot, by
talking. Follow the right Thread, or find it.

Dam. Why, here his Play might have ended, if he
would ha' let it; and have spar'd us the vexation of a
fifth Act yet to come, which every one here knows the
issure of already, or may in part conjecture.

Boy. That conjecture is a kind of Figure-flinging, or
throwing the Dice, for a meaning was never in the Poets
purpose perhaps. Stay, and see his last Act,
his Catastrophe, how he will perplex that, or spring some fresh
cheat, to entertain the Spectators, with a convenient
delight, till some unexpected, and new encounter break
out to rectifie all, and make good the Conclusion.

Pro. Which, ending here, would have shown dull,
flat, and unpointed; without any shape, or sharpness,
Brother Damplay.

Dam. Well, let us expect then: And wit be with us,
o' the Poets part.