Prologue to "Secret Love; or, The Maiden Queen"

He who writ this, not without pains and thought
From French and English theaters has brought
Th' exactest rules by which a play is wrought:
The unities of action, place, and time;
The scenes unbroken; and a mingled chime
Of Jonson's humor with Corneille's rhyme.
But while dead colors he with care did lay,
He fears his wit or plot he did not weigh,
Which are the living beauties of a play.
Flays are like towns, which, howe'er fortified
By engineers, have still some weaker side
By the o'er-seen defendant unespied.
And with that art you make approaches now;
Such skilful fury in assaults you show.
That every poet without shame may bow.
Ours therefore humbly would attend your doom.
If, soldier-like, he may have terms to come
With flying colors and with beat of drum.