| |
| I come no more to make you laugh: things now, | |
| That bear a weighty and a serious brow, | |
| Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, | |
| Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, | |
| We now present. Those that can pity, here | 5 |
| May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; | |
| The subject will deserve it. Such as give | |
| Their money out of hope they may believe, | |
| May here find truth too. Those that come to see | |
| Only a show or two, and so agree | 10 |
| The play may pass, if they be still and willing, | |
| I’ll undertake may see away their shilling | |
| Richly in two short hours. Only they | |
| That come to hear a merry, bawdy play, | |
| A noise of targets, or to see a fellow | 15 |
| In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, | |
| Will be deceiv’d; for, gentle hearers, know, | |
| To rank our chosen truth with such a show | |
| As fool and fight is, besides forfeiting | |
| Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, | 20 |
| To make that only true we now intend, | |
| Will leave us never an understanding friend. | |
| Therefore, for goodness’ sake, and as you are known | |
| The first and happiest hearers of the town, | |
| Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see | 25 |
| The very persons of our noble story | |
| As they were living; think you see them great, | |
| And follow’d with the general throng and sweat | |
| Of thousand friends; then, in a moment see | |
| How soon this mightiness meets misery: | 30 |
| And if you can be merry then, I’ll say | |
| A man may weep upon his wedding day. | |
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