 | The Captaine |  |
73
The Prologue.
To please you with this Play, we feare will be(So does the Author too) a mystery
Somewhat above our Art; For all mens eyes,
Ears, faiths, and judgements, are not of one size.
For to say truth, and not to flatter ye,
This is nor Comody, nor Tragedy,
Nor History, nor any thing that may
(Yet in a weeke) be made a perfect Play:
Yet those that love to laugh, and those that thinke
Twelve-pence goes farther this way then in drinke,
Or Damsels, if they marke the matter through,
May stumble on a foolish toy, or two
Will make 'em shew their teeth: pray, for my sake
(That likely am your first man) doe not take
A distaste before you feele it: for ye may
When this is hist to ashes, have a Play.
And here, to out-hisse this; be patient then,
(My honour done) y'are welcome Gentlemen.
| The Captaine | |