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Epilogue,
To a Vacation Play
at the Globe.
The speaker enter'd with a Sword drawne.
For your owne sakes (Poore Soules!) you had not best
Beleeve, my fury was so much supprest
I'th'heat of the last Scene, as now you may
Boldly, and safely too, cry downe our Play!
For if you dare, but Murmure one false Note,
Here in the House, or going to take Bote;
By Heav'n, I'le mowe you off, with my long Sword;
Yeo'man, and Squire, Knight, Lady, and her Lord!
With reason too; for since my whole part lies
I'th' Play, to Kill the King's chiefe Enemies;
How can you scape? (be your owne Judges) when
You lay sad plots, to begger the Kings-Men.
Beleeve, my fury was so much supprest
I'th'heat of the last Scene, as now you may
Boldly, and safely too, cry downe our Play!
For if you dare, but Murmure one false Note,
Here in the House, or going to take Bote;
By Heav'n, I'le mowe you off, with my long Sword;
Yeo'man, and Squire, Knight, Lady, and her Lord!
With reason too; for since my whole part lies
I'th' Play, to Kill the King's chiefe Enemies;
How can you scape? (be your owne Judges) when
You lay sad plots, to begger the Kings-Men.
To
