I like it very well, said the Empress; but I observe that the actors make a better show than the spectators; and the scenes a better than the actors, and the music and dancing is more pleasant and acceptable than the play itself; for I see, the scenes stand for wit, the dancing for humour, and the music is the chorus. I am sorry, replied the Duchess, to hear your Majesty say so; for if the wits of this part of the world should hear you, they would condemn you. What, said the Empress, would they condemn me for preferring a natural face before a signpost; or a natural humour before an artificial dance; or music before a true and profitable relation? As for relation, replied the Duchess, our poets defy and condemn it into a chimney-corner, fitter for old women’s tales, than theatres. Why, said the Empress, do not your poets’ actions comply with their judgments? For their plays are composed of old stories, either of Greek or Roman, or some newfound world. The Duchess answered her Majesty, that it was true, that all or most of their plays were taken out of old stories; but yet they had new actions, which being joined to old stories, together with the addition of new prologues, scenes, music and dancing, made new plays.