Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.The king shall have my service; but my prayers For ever, and for ever, shall be yours. And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king; There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny: 'tis the king's: my robe, I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Crom. Good sir, have patience. Wol. So I have. Farewell The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE 1. A street in Westminster. Enter two Gentlemen, meeting. 1 Gent. You are well met once again. Gent. And so are you. 1 Gent. You come to take your stand here, and behold The lady Anne pass from her coronation? 2 Gent. 'Tis all my business. At our last encounter, The duke of Buckingham came from his trial. 1 Gent. 'Tis very true: but that time offered sorrow; This, general joy. 2 Gent. 'Tis well: The citizens, I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds; 1 Gent. Never greater, Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir. 2 Gent. May I be bold to ask what that contains, That paper in your hand? 1 Gent. Yes; 'tis the list Of those, that claim their offices this day, The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims 2 Gent. I thank you, sir; had I not known those customs, I should have been beholden to your paper. 1 Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop Of Canterbury, accompanied with other Learned and reverend fathers of his order, 2 Gent. Alas, good lady !— [Trumpets. The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming. THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION. A lively flourish of trumpets; then enter 1. Two judges. 2. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before him. 3. Choristers singing. [Musick. 4. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head, a gilt copper crown. 5. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet. Collars of SS. 6. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as highsteward. With him, the duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS. 7. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; under it, the queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side of her, the bishops of London and Winchester. * The marriage lately considered as valid. VOL. VII. s. The old duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train. 9. Certain ladies or countesses, with plain circlets of gold, without flowers. 2 Gent. A royal train, believe me.-These I know; Who's that, that bears the sceptre ? 1 Gent. Marquis Dorset: And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod. 2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman: And that should be The duke of Suffolk. 1 Gent. 'Tis the same; high-steward. 2 Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk ? 1 Gent. 2 Gent. Yes. Heaven bless thee! [Looking on the Queen. Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on. Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel; Our king has all the Indies in his arms, And more, and richer, when he strains that lady: I cannot blame his conscience. 1 Gent. They, that bear The cloth of honour over her, are four barons Of the Cinque-ports. 2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all, are near her. I take it, she that carries up the train, Is that old noble lady, duchess of Norfolk. 1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. 2 Gent. Their coronets say so. indeed; And, sometimes, falling ones. 1 Gent. These are stars, No more of that [Exit procession, with a great flourish of trumpets. Enter a third Gentleman. God save you, sir! Where have you been broiling? 3 Gent. Among the crowd i'the abbey; where a finger Could not be wedg'd in more; and I am stifled 2 Gent. You saw How was it? 3 Gent. Well worth the seeing. 2 Gent. Good sir, speak it to us. 3 Gent. As well as I am able. The rich stream Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off A distance from her; while her grace sat down As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, That had not half a week to go, like rams In the old time of war, would shake the press, 2 Gent. But, pray, what follow'd? 3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with modest paces Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and, saint like, Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly. |