"Pardon, gentles all, the flat unraised spirits that have dared on this unworthy scaffold to bring forth so great an object: A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, and monarchs to behold the swelling scene! Can this cockpit hold the vasty fields of France? Or may we cram within this virtual O the very casques that did affright the air at Agincourt?

Let us, ciphers to this great accompt, on your imaginary forces work. Suppose within the girdle of these walls of code are now confined two mighty monarchies, whose high upreared and abutting fronts the perilous narrow ocean parts asunder. For now sits expectation in the air! And hides a sword from hilt unto the point with crowns imperial, ducats and coronets.

Pierce out our imperfections with your thoughts. For tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, carrying them here and there; jumping o'er times, turning the accomplishment of many years into an hourglass.

For that which we supply, we request thee Chorus to our history; Thus, prologue like, we, your humble patience pray gently to play, kindly to judge...our GAME!"