Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 08 of 10

Ladies to you, in whose defence and right, Fletchers brave Muse prepar'd her self to fight A battel without blood, 'twas well fought too, (The victory's yours, though got with much ado.) We do present this Comedy, in which A rivulet of pure wit flows, strong and rich In Fancy, Language, and all parts that may Add Grace and Ornament to a merry Play. Which this may prove. Yet not to go too far In promises from this our Female War. We do intreat the angry men would not Expect the mazes of a subtle plot, Set Speeches, high Expressions, and what's worse, In a true Comedy, politick discourse. The end we aim at, is to make you sport; Yet neither gall the City, nor the Court. Hear, and observe his Comique strain, and when Y' are sick-of melancholy, see't agen. 'Tis no dear Physick since 'twill quit the cost: Or his intentions with our pains, are lost.