Page:Henry VIII (1925) Yale.djvu/130

118 

'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

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

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.

 7 that: so that  

