As for it, he himself must justly hate.
To make a child now swaddled, to proceed
Man, and then shoot up in one beard and weed—
Past threescore years, or with three rusty swords
And help of some few foot and half foot words—
Fight over York and Lancaster's long jars,
And in the tiring-house bring wounds to scars!
He [that is, Ben himself] rather prays you will be pleased to see
One such to-day, as other plays should be;
[that is, one he wrote himself ]