EPILOGUE I would now ask ye how you like the play, But, as it is with schoolboys, cannot say. I am cruel fearful! Pray yet, stay a while, And let me look upon ye. No man smile? Then it goes hard, I see. He that has Loved a young handsome wench, then, show his face— ’Tis strange if none be here—and, if he will, Against his conscience let him hiss, and kill Our market. ’Tis in vain, I see, to stay ye. Have at the worst can come, then! Now what say ye? And yet mistake me not: I am not bold; We have no such cause. If the tale we have told For ’tis no other—any way content ye— For to that honest purpose it was meant ye— We have our end; and you shall have ere long, I dare say, many a better, to prolong Your old loves to us. We, and all our might, Rest at your service. Gentlemen, good night. [_Flourish. Exit._] FINIS