There is no Comedy more conformable to that of the Ancients, than the English, as for what relates to the Manners; it is not a pure piece of Gallantry full of Adventures and amorous Discourses, as in Spain and France; it is a Representation of the ordinary way of living, according to the various Humours, and different Characters of men. It is an Alchymist, who by the Illusions of his Art, feeds the deceitful hopes of a vain Curioso: It is a silly credulous Coxcomb, whose foolish Facility is continually abused; it is sometimes a ridiculous Politician grave and composed, starched in every thing, mysteriously jealous-headed, that thinks to find out hidden designs in the most common Intentions, and to discover Artifice in the most innocent Actions of Life: It is a whimsical Lover, a swaggering Bully, a pedantick Scholar, the one with natural Extravagancies, the other with ridiculous Affectations. The truth is these Cheats and Cullies, these Politicians and other Characters so ingeniously devised, are carried on too far in our Opinion; as those which are to be seen upon our Stage, are a little too faint to the Relish of the English: and the reason of that, perhaps is, because the English think too much, and we commonly think not enough.

Indeed, we are satisfied with the first Images of things; and by sticking to the bare outside, we generally take Appearance for Reality, and the easie and free for what is natural. Upon this Head I shall observe en passant, that these two last Qualities are sometimes most improperly confounded; the Easie and the Natural agree well enough in their Opposition to what is stiff or forced; but when we are to dive into the Nature of things, or the Natural Humour of Persons, it will be granted me, that the Easy will scarce carry us far enough. There is something within us, something hidden, that would discover it self, if we sounded the Subject a little more.

(1.516-17)

[Saint-Evremond expands on differences between the English and the French, then returns to his subject.]

... [I] must reassume my Subject of Comedy, and observe a considerable difference that is to be found betwixt theirs and ours. It consists in this, that being zealous to copy the Regularity of the Ancients, we still drive to the principal Action, without any other Variety than that of the means that bring us to it. It is not be denied but that the Representation of one principal Event ought to be the sole Scope and End proposed in Tragedy; for we cannot without some Violence and Pain find our selves taken off from what employed our first Thoughts.

The Misfortune of an unhappy King, the sad and Tragical Death of a great Hero, wholly confine the mind to these Objects, and all the Variety it cares for, is to know the different means that contributed to bring about this principal Action; but Comedy being made to divert and not to busie us, provided Probability be observed, and Extravagance avoided, Variety in the Opinion of the English is an agreeable Surprize, and Change that pleases; whereas the continual Expectation of one and the same thing, wherein there seems to be no great matter of importance, must of necessity make our Attention flagg. So then instead of representing a signal Cheat carried on by means all relating to the same end, they bring upon the Stage a notable Rogue with several Cheats, each of which produces its proper Effect. As they scarce ever stick to the Unity of Action, that they may represent a principal Person, who diverts them by different Actions: So they often quit that principal Person, to shew what various things happen to several Persons in publick places; Ben Johnson takes this Course in his Bartholomew-Fair. We find the same thing in Epsom-Wells, and in both these Comedies, the ridiculous Adventures of those publick places are comically represented.

There are some other Plays which have in a manner two Plots, that are interwoven so ingeniously the one into the other, that the mind of the Spectators (which might be offended by too sensible a Change) finds nothing but Satisfaction in the agreeable Variety they produce. It is to be confessed that Regularity is wanting here; but the English are of Opinion, that the Liberties which are taken for better pleasing, ought to be preferred before exact Rules, which dull Authors make such a pother about, but tire the Audience.

Rules are to be observed for avoiding Confusion; good Sence is to be followed for moderating the Flight of a luxuriant Fancy; but Rules must not so constrain the mind, as to fetter it, and a scrupulous Reason ought to be banished, which adhering too strictly to Exactness, leaves nothing free and natural.

They who cannot attain a Genius, when Nature hath denied them one, ascribe all to Art which they may acquire, and to set a Value upon the onely Merit they have, which is that of being regular, they employ all their Interest to damn any piece that is not altogether so. For those that love the Ridicule, that are pleased to see the Follies of Mankind, that are affected with true Characters, they will find some of the English Comedies as much, or perhaps, more to their relish, than any they have ever seen.

Our Moliere whom the Ancients have inspired with the true Spirit of Comedy, equals their Ben Johnson, in truly representing the various humours and different ways of men, both observing in their descriptions, the peculiar tast and genius of their own Nation: I believe they have carried that point as far as the Ancients ever did; But it is not to be denied, but that they had a greater regard to their Characters than to the Plot, which might have better laid together and more naturally unravell'd.

(1.518-21)