 | If it be not Good, The Diuel is in it |  |
Epilogue.
If't be not good, the Diuell is in't, (they say,)The Diuell was in't, this then is no good play
By that conclusion, but hereby is meant,
If for so many nones, and midnights spent
To reape three howres of mirth, our haruest-seede
Lyes still and rot. The Diuelt in't then indeed:
Much Labour, Art, and Wit, make vp a Play
As it does a Ship, yet both are cast away,
(When brauely they haue past the humorous Seas)
At landing, What black fates curseth both these?
Sayle it, or sinck it, now tis forth, and nere
The Hauen at which it longs t'ariue: if there
It suffers wrack, the spitefuller Rockes shoote forth,
Yet non may bring it home ladē with much worth.
By your wonted gentle gale, (sweete as the Balme,)
Or by extending faire liberall Palme.
To fan away all stormes, if you see it lowers,
The ayre shall ring thankes, but the glory's yours.
| If it be not Good, The Diuel is in it | |