Conclusion to the Reader.

( Reader ) when thou hast read this mad-cap stuffe,
Wherein my Muse swaggers as in her ruffe:
I know these Orphants shal be soone renounced,
Of euery one, and vnto death denounced:
I know thow'lt doome them to th' Apotheta ,
To wrap Sope in, and Assifaetida:
And iustly to: for thou canst not misuse,
More then I will, these bastards of my Muse:
I know they are passing filthy, scuruey lines,
I know they are rude, harsh, and vnsauory rimes:
Fit to wrap playsters, and odd vnguents in,
Reedifiers of the wracks of Synne .
Viewing this sin-drownd world, I purposely,
Phisick'd my Muse , that thus vnmannerly,
She might beray our folly-soyled age,
And keepe Decorum on a comick stage,
Bringing a foule-mouth Iester who might sing
To rogues, the story of the lousie King.
I care not what the world doth think, or say,
There lies a morral vnder my leane play:
And like a resolute Epigrammatist,
Holding my pen, my Rapier in my fist:
I know I shall wide-gaping Momes conuince.
My Muse so armed is a carelesse Prince.