By i0joi, Updated
A play there is, my lord, some ten words long, which is as brief as I have known a play; but by ten words, my lord, it is too long.
What are they that do play it?
Hard-handed men that work in Athens here, which never labour'd in their minds till now, and now have toil'd their unbreath'd memories with this same play, agains your nuptial.
And we will hear it.
No, my noble lord; I have heard it over, and it is nothing, nothing in the world; unless you can find sport in their intents, extremely streach'd and conn'd with crule pain, to do your service.
I will hear that play; for nothing can be amiss. When simpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in, and take your places
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