If the king blame me for't, I'll lay ye all Man. You great fellow, stand close up, or I'll make your head ache. Port. You i' the camblet, get up o' the rail; I'll peck you o'er the pales elfe. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The Palace. Enter Trumpets, founding; then two Aldermen, LordMayor, Garter, CRANMER, Duke of NORFOLK with his Marshall's Staff, Duke of SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standing Bowls for the Chriftening Gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a Canopy under which the Dutchess of NORFOLK, Godmother, bearing the Child richly habited in a Mantle, Sc. 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 profperous 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 My noble partners, and myself, thus pray :-- King. Thank you, good lord archbishop: What is her name? Cran. Elizabeth.. King. Stand up, lord. [The King kiffes the Child. With this kiss, take my bleffing: God protect thee! Into whose hand I give thy life. Cran. Amen. King. My noble goffips, ye have been too prodigal: I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady, When the has so much English. Cran. Let me fpeak, fir, For Heaven now bids me; and the words I utter And And hang their heads with forrow: Good grows with her: In her days, every man shall eat in safety, (When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness), Who from the iacred ashes of her honour, King. Thou speakest wonders.] Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of England, An aged princess; many days thall fee her, And yet no day without a deed to crown it. Would I had known no more! but the must die, She muft, the faints must have her; yet a virgin, A most unfpotted lily shall she pafs To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. A K King. King. O lord archbishop, This happy child, did I get any thing: lords; Ye must all fee the queen, and she must thank ye, She will be fick elfe. This day, no man think He has business at his house; for all shall stay, This little one shall make it holiday. [Exeunt. Tis ten to one, this play can never please ll that are here: Some come to take their eafe, nd flep an act or two; but those we fear, 'e have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear, bey'll fay, 'tis naught, others, to hear the city 'bus'd extremely, and to cry-that's witty! Thich we have not done neither : that, I fear, 'll the expected good we are like to hear or this play at this time, is only in be merciful construction of good women ; For fuch a one we shew'd'em: If they smile, And say, 'twill do, I know, within a while, All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap, f they bald, when their ladies bid 'em clap. THE END. |