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A right excellent and famous Comoedy called the three Ladies of London

Wherein is notablie declared and set foorth, how by the meanes of Lucar, Loue and Conscience is so corrupted, that the one is married to Dissimulation, the other fraught withall abhomination. A perfect patterne for all Estates to looke into, and a worke right worthie to be marked
  
  
The Prologue.

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The Prologue.

To sit on honors seate, it is a loftie reach,
To seeke for praise by making brags, oftimes doth get a breach.
We list not ride the rowling Rackes, that dims the christall skies,
We mean to set no glimmering glaunce before your curteous eies.
We search not Plutos pensiue pit, nor tast of Limbo lake:
We doo not shew of warlike fight, as sword and shield to shake.
We speake not of the powers deuine, ne yet of furious sprites:
We do not seeke high hilles to climbe, nor talke of loues delights.
We doo not heere present to you, the threshar with his flayle:
Ne doo we here present to you, the milke maide with her payle.
We shew not you of countrey toile, as hedger with his bill:
We doo not bring the husbandman, to loppe and toppe with skill.
We play not heere the Gardiners part, to plant, to set and sowe:
You maruell then what stuffe we haue to furnish out our showe.
Your patience yet we craue a while, till we haue trimd our stall:
Then young and olde come and behold our wares, and buy them all.
Then if our wares shall seeme to you, well wouen, good and fine,
We hope we shall your custome haue, againe an other time.
FINIS.