DOTH it more move our anger or our mirth
To see these THINGS, the lowest sons of earth,
Presume, with self-sufficient knowledge grac'd,
To rule in Letters and preside in Taste.
The TOWN's decisions they no more admit,
Themselves alone the ARBITERS of Wit;
And scorn the jurisdiction of that COURT
To which they owe their being and support.
Actors, like monks of old, now sacred grown,
Must be attack'd by no fools but their own.