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The Life of King Henry the Eighth
THE EPILOGUE.
'Tis ten to one, this play can never please
All that are here. Some come to take their ease
And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
We've frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear 4
They'll say 'tis naught: others, to hear the city
Abus'd extremely, and to cry, 'That’s witty!'
Which we have not done neither: that, I fear,
All the expected good we're like to hear 8
For this play at this time is only in
The merciful construction of good women;
For such a one we show'd 'em: if they smile,
And say 'twill do, I know within a while 12
All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap
If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap.
7 that: so that
FINIS.
