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The Prologve.
Doe not expect th'abuses of a Place;Nor th'ills sprung from a Strumpets painted face
To be exprest. Our Author doth not meane
With such vile stuffe to clothe his modest Scœne.
Nor doth he brand it with a Satyres marke;
But makes a Justice wiser then his Clerke.
His Rusticks likewise will pretend to Wit:
So all the Persons which wee counterfeit.
He justifies that 'tis no borrow'd Straine,
From the invention of anothers braine.
Nor did he steale the Fancie. 'Tis the same
Hee first intended by the proper Name.
'Twas not a toyle of yeares: few weekes brought forth
This rugged Issue, might have beene more worth
If he had lick'd it more. Nor doth he raise
From th'imitation of authenticke Playes
Matter or words to height: nor bundle up
Conceits at Tavernes where the Wits doe sup.
His Muse is solitary, and alone
Doth practise her low speculation.
He hath no faction in a partiall way,
Prepar'd to cry it up, and boast the Play,
Swelling your expectations: hee relies
Meerely upon your ingenuities.
The Matter's weake: how can the Building stand?
Yes; if supported by a gratious Hand.
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