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blow us.

about him are under the line, they need no other penance.

That fire-drake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged against me: he stands there, like a mortar-piece, to

There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that railed upon me till her pink'd porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I missed the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cried out: Clubs! when I might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to her succour, which were the hope o' the Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to the broomstaff to me: I defied 'em still; when suddenly a file of boys behind 'em, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let 'em win the work : the devil was amongst 'em, 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 'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three days, besides the running banquet of two beadles 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 2-Ye have made a fine band,

fellows: There is 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 'em. Cham.

As I live, If the King blame me for 't, I 'll lay ye all By the heels, and suddenly; and on your heads Clap round fines for neglect. Ye are lazy knaves; And here ye lie, baiting of bombards, when Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets

sound; They ’re come already from the christening.

Go, break among the press, and find a way out
To let the troop pass fairly, or I'll find
A Marshalsea, shall hold you play these two

Port. Make way there for the princess.

You great fellow, Stand close up, or I'll make your head ache.

Port. You i' the camlet, get up o' the rail ; I'll pick you o'er the pales else.


SCENE IV.-The Palace. Enter Trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen,

Lord Mayor, Garter, CRANMER, Duke of NorFOLK, with his marshal's staff, Duke of SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls for the christening-gifts; then, four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of NORFOLK, god-mother, bearing the child richly habited 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:
All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady,
Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy,
May hourly fall upon ye!

K. Hen. Thank you, good lord Archbishop;
What is her name ?

K. Hen.




[The King kisses the Childo With this kiss take my blessing : God protect

thee ! Into whose hand I give thy life. Cran.

K. Hen. My noble gossips, ye have been too

I thank ye heartily : so shall this lady,
When she has so much English.

Let me speak, sir, For Heaven now bids me ; and the words I utter Let none think flattery, for they 'll find 'em truth. This royal infant, —Heaven still move about her! Though in her cradle, yet now promises

Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be--
But few now living can behold that goodness-
A pattern to all princes living with her,
And all that shall succeed : Saba was never
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue,
Than this pure soul shall be : all princely graces
That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
With all the virtues that attend the good,
Shall still be doubled on her : Truth shall nurse

her; Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her: She shall be loved, and feared : her own shall bless


Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
And hang their heads with sorrow : good grows

with her :
In her days every man shall eat in safety,
Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.
God shall be truly known; and those about her
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 phoenix,
Her ashes new create another heir

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