_I would now aske ye how ye like the Play,_
_But as it is with School Boys, cannot say,_
_I 'm cruell fearefull: pray yet stay a while,_
_And let me look upon ye: No man smile?_
_Then it goes hard I see; He that has_
_Lov'd a young hansome wench then, show his face:_
_'Tis strange if none be here, and if he will_
_Against his Conscience let him hiss and kill_
_Our Market: 'Tis in vain, I see to stay ye,_
_Have at the worst can come, then; Now what say ye?_
_And yet mistake me not: I am not bold_
_We have no such cause. If th' tale we have told_
_(For 'tis no other) any way content ye_
_(For to that honest purpose it was ment ye)_
_We have our end; And ye shall have ere long_
_I dare say many a better, to prolong_
_Your old loves to us: We, and all our might,_
_Rest at your service, Gentlemen, good night._
[Florish.