Thou need'st not, friend, that any man for thee
Should to the world put in security.
Thy comedy is good; 'twill pass alone,
And fair enough without these ribbands shown
Upon the forehead on't. If high-rais'd passion,
Temper'd with harmless mirth, in such sweet fashion
And with such harmony, as may invite
Two faculties of soul and both delight,
Deserve an approbation, in mine eye
Such in just value is this Comedy.