I come no more to make you laugh;things now That bear a weighty and a serious brow,Sad,high,and working,full of state and woe,Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,We now present.Those that can pity here May,if they think it well,let fall a tear:The subject will deserve it.Such as give Their money out of hope they may believe May here find truth too.Those that come to see Only a show or two,and so agree The play may pass,if they be still and willing,I'll undertake may see away their shilling Richly in two short hours.Only they That come to hear a merry bawdy play,A noise of targets,or to see a fellow In a long motley coat guarded with yellow,Will be deceiv'd;for,gentle hearers,know,To rank our chosen truth with such a show As fool and fight is,beside forfeiting Our own brains,and the opinion that we bring To make that only true we now intend,Will leave us never an understanding friend.Therefore,for goodness sake,and as you are known The first and happiest hearers of the town,Be sad,as we would make ye.Think ye see The very persons of our noble story As they were living;think you see them great,And follow'd with the general throng and sweat Of thousand friends;then,in a moment,see How soon this mightiness meets misery.And if you can be merry then,I'll say A man may weep upon his wedding-day.
