Acted At Oxford, 1680. Written By Nathan Lee. Thespis,[1] The First Professor Of Our Art, At Country Wakes Sung Ballads From A Cart. To Prove This True, If Latin Be No Trespass, "Dicitur Et Plaustris Vexisse Poemata Thespis." But 'Schylus, Says Horace In Some Page, Was The First Mountebank That Trod The Stage: Yet Athens Never Knew Your Learned Sport Of Tossing Poets In A Tennis-Court. But 'Tis The Talent Of Our English Nation, Still To Be Plotting Some New Reformation: And Few Years Hence, If Anarchy Goes On, Jack Presbyter Shall Here Erect His Throne, Knock Out A Tub With Preaching Once A Day, And Every Prayer Be Longer Than A Play. Then All Your Heathen Wits Shall Go To Pot, For Disbelieving Of A Popish Plot: Your Poets Shall Be Used Like Infidels, And Worst, The Author Of The Oxford Bells: Nor Should We 'Scape The Sentence, To Depart, Even In Our First Original, A Cart. No Zealous Brother There Would Want A Stone To Maul Us Cardinals, And Pelt Pope Joan: Religion, Learning, Wit, Would Be Suppress'D-- Rags Of The Whore, And Trappings Of The Beast: Scot, Suarez, Tom Of Aquin, Must Go Down, As Chief Supporters Of The Triple Crown; And Aristotle'S For Destruction Ripe; Some Say He Call'D The Soul An Organ-Pipe, Which By Some Little Help Of Derivation, Shall Then Be Proved A Pipe Of Inspiration.