PROLOGUE TO THE COURT
Those common passions, hopes, and fears, that still,
The poets first, and then the prologues fill
In this our age, he that writ this, by me
Protests against as modest foolery.
He thinks it an odd thing to be in pain5
For nothing else, but to be well again.
Who writes to fear is so: had he not writ,
You ne'er had been the judges of his wit;
And, when he had, did he but then intend
To please himself, he sure might have his end10
Without th' expense of hope; and that he had
That made this play, although the play be bad.
Then, gentlemen, be thrifty: save your dooms
For the next man or the next play that comes;
For smiles are nothing where men do not care,15
And frowns as little where they need not fear.
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