THE PROLOGUE.

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,[1] Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present. Those that can pity, here[2] 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[3] 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 deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, To rank our chosen truth with such a show As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting[4] Our own brains and the opinion that we bring 20 To make that only true we now intend,[5] Will leave us never an understanding friend.[6] Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known[7] The first and happiest hearers of the town, Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see[8] 25 The very persons of our noble story[9] 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.