University of Virginia Library

The Prologue.

Home-bred mirth our Muse doth sing,
The Satyres tooth and Waspish sting,
Which most do hurt when least suspected,
By this Play are not affected;
But if Conceit with quick-turn'd Sceanes,
Obseruing all those ancient streames,
Which from the Horse-foot fount do flow,
As Time, Place, Person, and to show,
Things neuer done with that true life,
That thoughts and wits shall stand at strife,
Whether the things now shewne be true,
Or whether wee our selues now do
The things wee but present: if these
Free from the loathsome stage disease,
(So ouer-worne, so tirde and stale,
Not Satyring but to raile,)
May win your fauours, and inherit
But calme acceptance for his merit:
A vowes by Paper, Pen and Inke,
And by the learned Sisters drinke,
To spend his Time, his Lamps, his Oyle,
And neuer cease his braine to toyle,
Till from the silent houres of night,
Hee doth produce for your delight,
Conceits so new, so harmlesse free,
That Puritanes them-selues may see
A Play, yet not in publique Preach,
That Players such lewd doctrine teach
That their pure ioynts do quake and tremble,
UUhen they doe see a man resemble
The Picture of a Uillaine: This
As hee a friend to Muses is,
To you by mee a giues his word,
Is all his Play doth now affoord.