IS ten to one this Play can never please
All that are here: Some come to take
And fleep out an Act or two; but those we fear
We've frighted with our Trumpets: fo'tis clear,
They'll Say it's 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 Construction of good Women ;
For fuch a one we fhew'd'em: If they Smile,
And fay 'twill do; I know within a while,
All the beft Men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
If they hold, when their Ladies bid 'em clap.