Original
Modern English
I come no more to make you laugh: things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow, Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present. Those that can pity, here May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; The subject will deserve it. Such as give Their money out of hope they may believe, May here find truth too. Those that come to see Only a show or two, and so agree The play may pass, if they be still and willing, I’ll undertake may see away their shilling Richly in two short hours. Only they That come to hear a merry bawdy play, A noise of targets, or to see a fellow In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, To rank our chosen truth with such a show As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, To make that only true we now intend, Will leave us never an understanding friend. Therefore, for goodness’ sake, and as you are known The first and happiest hearers of the town, Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see The very persons of our noble story As they were living; think you see them great, And follow’d with the general throng and sweat Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see How soon this mightiness meets misery: And, if you can be merry then, I’ll say A man may weep upon his wedding-day.
I’m not here to make you laugh anymore: things now, That carry a serious and heavy weight, Sad, high, and full of effort, full of power and pain, Noble events that make the eye fill with tears, Are what we present. Those who can feel sympathy, May, if they think it’s right, shed a tear; The story will deserve it. Those who give Their money hoping to believe, May find truth here, too. Those who just came to see A few flashy scenes, and agree That the play can pass if they stay quiet and content, I believe will leave having spent their shilling Wisely in two short hours. Only they Who came hoping for a fun, bawdy play, A lot of noise, or to see a man In a bright clownish coat trimmed with yellow, Will be disappointed; for, dear audience, know, To compare the real truth we present With such a show as fooling and fighting does, Is to lose both our brains and the good opinion we have, To make the truth we intend to show now, Will leave us without any friends who understand. So, for goodness’ sake, and because you’re known As the first and most loyal audience in town, Be serious, as we want you to be: imagine you see The actual people of our noble story As if they were alive; picture them great, And followed by a crowd of friends and admirers, Then in a moment, see How quickly this greatness turns to misery: And, if you can still be happy then, I’ll say A man may cry even on his wedding day.