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where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to the broomstaff with me, I defied them still; when suddenly a file of boys behind them, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let them win the work: The devil was amongst them, I think, surely.
Port. These are the youths that thunder at a play-house, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but the Tribulation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of them in linibo patrum*, and there they are like to dance these three days ; besides the running banquet of two beadlest, that is to come.
Enter the Lord Chamberlain.
Cham. Mercy o'me, what a multitude are here! They grow still too, from all parts they are coming, As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters, These lazy knaves ?-Ye have made a fine hand, fel.
lows, There's a trim rabble let in : Are all these Your faithful friends o'the suburbs? We shall have Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies, When they pass back from the christening. Port.
An't please your honour, We are but men; and what so many may do, Not being torn a.pieces, we have done: An army cannot rule them. Cham.
As I live, If the king blame me for't, l'll lay ye all By the heels, and suddenly; and on your heads Clap round fines, for neglect: You are lazy knaves; And here ye lie baiting of bumbards t, when Ye should do service. Hark, the trumpets sound 3
* Place of confinement. + A dessert of whipping. | Black leather vessels to hold beer.
They are come already from the christening:
Port. Make way there for the princess.
Man. You great fellow, stand close up, or I'll make your head ake.
Port. You i'the camblet, get up o'the rail; I'll pick* you o'er the pales else.
Enter trumpets, sounding ; then two Aldermen,
Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Nor. folk, with his marshal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls, for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bear. ing a canopy, under which the Duchess of Nor. folk, godmother, bearing the Child, richly ha. bited in a mantle, &c. Train borne by a Lady; then follows the Marchioness of Dorset, the other godmother, and Ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks.
Gart. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth.
Flourish. Enter King, and Train.
Cran. (Kneeling.) And to your royal grace, and
the good queen, My noble partners, and myself, thus pray:
+ At Green wich.
All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady,
K. Hen. Thank you, good lord archbishop ;
Elizabeth. K. Hen.
Stand up, lord.
[The King kisses the child. With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee! Into whose hands I give thy life. Cran.
Let me speak, sir,
her; Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow: Good grows
1. From her shall read the perfect ways of honour,
And by those claim their greatness, not by blood. [Nor* shall this peace sleep with her: But as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden ph@yix, Her ashes new create another heir, As great in admiration as herself; So shall she leave her blessedness to one, (When Heaven shall call her from this cloud of dark.
ness), Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour, Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was,
And so stand fix'd : Peace, plenty, love, truth, ter. 1
ror, That were the servants to this chosen infant, Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him; Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, His honour and the greatness of his name Shall be, and make new pations: He shall flourish, And, like a mountain cedar, reach bis branches To all the plains about him :- Our children's child
ren Shall see this, and bless Heaven. K. Hen.
Thou speakest wonders. Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of England, An aged princess; many days shall see her, And yet no day without a deed to crown it. 'Would I had knowo no more! but she must die, She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin, A most unspotted lily shall she pass To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her.
K. Hen. O lord archbishop, Thou hast made me now a man; never, before This happy child, did I get any thing: This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me, That, when I am in heaven, I shall desire To see what this child does, and praise my Maker.
* This and the following seventeen lines were probably written by B. Jonson, after the accession of king James.
I thank ye all,—To you, my good lord mayor,