Which time doth expel with all mundane pleasure.
Both merry and short we purpose to be,
And therefore require your pardon and patience;
We trust in our matter nothing you shall see,
That to the godly may give any offence;
Though the style be barbarous, not fined with eloquence,
Yet our author desireth your gentle acceptation,
And we the players likewise with all humiliation.
Enter Lust, like a gallant, singing this song.