 | The Bride |  |
The Prologue
Vacation still: so little custome comesTo buy our Merchandize, and fill our roomes,
It would perswade us but for after hope
Of better takings quite to shut up shop.
But what's the reason? have we no good ware?
Or doe the sights and motions in the fayre
Please better with their cheape rates? 'tis not fit
That we should set so low a prize on wit.
For what we shall present you with to day
The Bride, we wish you not t'expect a play,
Wherein a nesslecock, or youth oth' towne
(Borne to more state then wit) 's a gallant growne:
When one amongst you laughing at the elfe
And at his gullery, thinks upon himselfe.
Perhaps there will be some concluding that
A person or a place is pointed at;
Such make that satire which the pure intent
Of th'author meant but harmelesse merriment;
Who only labours here in what he can
T'expresse a Citizen a Gentleman.
Marke well the weaving and the dressing, then
Liking the stuffe we hope you'l come agen.
| The Bride | |