 | Wily Beguilde |  |
THE EPILOGVE.
Gentles , all compast in this circled rounde,Whose kind aspects do patronize our sports:
To you Ile bend as low as to the earth,
In all the humble complements of curtesie.
But if there be, (as tis no doubt there is)
In all this round some Cinique censurers,
Whose onely skill consists in finding faults,
That haue like Midas mightie Asses eares,
Quicke iudgements that will strike at euerie stale,
And perhaps such as can make a large discourse
Out of Scoggins iests, or the hundred merrie tales:
Marrie if you go any further, tis beyond their reading;
To these I say, I scorne to lend a looke,
And bid them vanish vapours, and so let them passe.
But to the other sort, that heare with loue, and iudge with fauour,
To them we leaue, to censure of our play:
And if they like our playes Catastrophe,
Then let them grace it with a Plaudite.
Exit.
FINIS.
| Wily Beguilde | |