The Ghost The Ghost or The Woman wears the Breeches. A Comedy Written in the Year MDCXL |
PROLOGUE.
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 | The Ghost |  |
PROLOGUE.
All
Legions broke from Hell, all Fiends to day
Task'd for to work on earth, and to obey
Goetian spells, what starrs foretell the event
Of hidden things, and future detriment,
Earthquakes that shake us to believe and fear,
Or more portentous spectacles ith' Air,
All Circles drawn, Charms writ in Virgin-parchment
Are here all turn'd to comfits and sweet Marchpent.
Task'd for to work on earth, and to obey
Goetian spells, what starrs foretell the event
Of hidden things, and future detriment,
Earthquakes that shake us to believe and fear,
Or more portentous spectacles ith' Air,
All Circles drawn, Charms writ in Virgin-parchment
Are here all turn'd to comfits and sweet Marchpent.
You are welcoome Gallants to a merry Ghost,
You know a playing one, his sign's on the poste,
Rais'd by a waggish Scholar in the Town,
Onely to affright a Citizens Breeches down:
And give you all a caution on your lives,
To get strong Points, but weak and gentle Wives.
You know a playing one, his sign's on the poste,
Rais'd by a waggish Scholar in the Town,
Onely to affright a Citizens Breeches down:
And give you all a caution on your lives,
To get strong Points, but weak and gentle Wives.
But if I linger, I shall be accessary
To a murther here; and yet in faith I'm sorry;
For 'bout those Breeches I have much to say;
Sit still, and merrily feed on the Play;
'Tis City-chear, and stead of Wine pray laugh,
And with your money we your healths will quaff.
To a murther here; and yet in faith I'm sorry;
For 'bout those Breeches I have much to say;
Sit still, and merrily feed on the Play;
'Tis City-chear, and stead of Wine pray laugh,
And with your money we your healths will quaff.
| The Ghost | |