All of Shakespeare’s plays. More…

  • '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 have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear,
    They'll say 'tis naught: others, to hear the city
    Abused 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
    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
    All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
    If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap.