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IS ten to one this play can never please

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All that are here: fome come to take their cafe,
And fleep an act or two; but those we fear
We've frighted with our trumpets: fo 'tis clear

They'll fay 'tis naught. Others, to hear the city
Abus'd extreamly, and to cry that's witty;
Which we have not done neither; that I fear
All the expected good w'are like to hear
For this play at this time, is only in
The merciful conftruction of good women;
(For fuch a one we shew'd 'em) If they smile,
And fay 't will do; I know within a while
All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
If they hold when their Ladies bid 'em clap.


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