Not only good and wife, but most religious: His royal felf in judgment comes to hear Than but once think, this place becomes thee not. King. No, Sir, it does not please me. I thought, I had had men of fome understanding Would try him to the utmoft, had ye means; Which ye shall never have, while I do live. Cham. My most dread Sovereign, may it like your Grace To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd Concerning his imprisonment, was rather, If there be faith in men, meant for his tryal, King. Well, well, my Lords, refpect him: Take Take him, and ufe him well; he's worthy of it. I will fay thus much for him, if a Prince Am, for his love and fervice, fo to him. Make me no more ado, but all embrace him : Be friends for fhame, my Lords. My Lord of Canterbury, There is a fair young maid, that yet wants baptifm; Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory That am a poor and humble subject to you? King. Come, come, my Lord, you'd fpare your spoons: you fhall have Two noble partners with you: the old Dutchefs Gard. With a true heart And brother's love I do it. Cran. And let heav'n Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation. King. Good man, those joyful tears fhew thy true heart = The common voice, I fee, is verify'd Of thee, which fays thus: Do my Lord of Canterbury [Exeunt. Noife and tumult within: Enter Porter and his man. Ou'll leave your noife anon, ye rafcals; do you take the Court for Paris Garden? ye rude flaves, leave your gaping. Y Within. Good Mr. Porter, I belong to th' larder. Port. Belong to the gallows and be hang'd, ye rogue: is this a place to roar in? fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones; these are but fwitches to 'em : I'll fcratch your head; you must be feeing chriftnings? On May-day morning; which will never be: Man. Alas, I know not; how gets the tide in? Port. You did nothing, Sir. Man. I am not Sampson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colebrand, to mow 'em down before me: but if I fpar'd any that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or fhe, cuckold or cuckold-maker, let me never hope to fee a chine again; and that I would not for a cow, God fave her. Within. Do you hear, Mr. Porter? Port. I fhall be with you prefently, good Mr. Puppy. Keep the door close, firrah. Man. What would you have me do? Port. What should you do, but knock 'em down by the dozens? is this Morefields to mufter in? or have we some ftrange Indian with the great tool come to court, the women fo befiege us? blefs me! what a fry of fornication is at the door? on my christian confcience, this one chriftning will beget a thousand; here will be father, god-father, and all together. Man: The fpoons will be the bigger, Sir. There is a fellow fomewhat near the door, he fhould be a brafier by his face; for o'my confcience, twenty of the dogdays now reign in's nofe: all that ftand about him are under the line, they need no other penance; that firedrake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nofe difcharged against me; he ftands there like a mortar-piece to blow us up. There was a haberdafher's wife of fmall wit near him, that rail'd upon me 'till her pink'd porringer fell off her head, for kindling fuch a combuftion in the ftate. I mist the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cry'd out, Clubs! Clubs when I might fee from far fome forty truncheoneers draw to her fuccour; which were the hope of the ftrand, where he was quarter'd. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to th' broomftaff with me, I defy'd 'em ftill; when fuddenly a file. of boys behind 'em deliver'd fuch a fhower of pibbles, loofe hot, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let 'em win the work; the devil was amongst 'em, I think, furely. Port. Thefe are the youths that thunder at a playhoufe, and fight for bitten apples; that no "audience but the tribulation of Tower-Hill, or the limbs of LimeHoufe, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have fome of 'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance thefe three days; befides the running banquet of two beadles, that is to come. Enter Lord Chamberlain. Cham. Mercy o' me! what a multitude are here ? Your faithful friends o' th' fuburbs? we shall have Port. Pleafe your honour, We are but men; and what fo many may do, Cham. As I live, If the King blame me for't, I'll lay ye all By the heels, and fuddenly; and on your heads A Marfbalfea, fhall hold ye play these two months. Parta Port. Make way there for the Princefs. Man. You great fellow, ftand clofe up, or I'll make your head ake. Port. You i' th' camblet, get up o' th' rail, I'll peck you o'er the pales elfe. [Exeunt. SCENE, the Palace. Enter Trumpets founding; then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with his Marshal's ftaff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing great Standing bowls for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Dutchess of Norfolk, god-mother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, &c. Train borne by a Lady: then follows the Marchioness of Dorfet, the other god-mother, and Ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter fpeaks. Gart. H "Eav'n, from thy endlefs goodnefs fend long life, And ever happy, to the high and mighty Princess of England, fair Elizabeth ! Flourish. Enter King and Guards. Cran. And to your royal Grace, and the good Queen, My noble partners and myself thus pray; All comfort, joy, in this moft gracious Lady, King. Thank you, good Lord Arch-bishop: Cran. Elizabeth. King. Stand up, Lord. With this kifs take my bleffing: God protect thee, Cran. Amen. King. My noble goffips, y' have been too prodigal, I thank you heartily: fo fhall this Lady, When she has fo much English. Cran. Let me fpeak, Sir; (For heav'n now bids me) and the words I utter, Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth. |