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Suf. Nay, my lord,
Gar. My lord, because we have business of more moment,
Cran. Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you,
Gar. Good master secretary,
I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
Crom. Why, my lord?
Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer
Gar. Not sound, I say.
Crom. 'Would you were half so honest!
Remember your bold life too.
Chan. This is too much;
Chan. Then thus for you, my lord,-It stands agreed,
Cran. Is there no other way of mercy,
But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?
Gar. What other
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome!
Cran. For me?
Must I go like a traitor thither?
And see him safe i' the Tower.
Cran. Stay, good my lords,
I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords;
Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit.
Suf. "Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told ye all, When we first put this dangerous stone a rolling, "Twould fall upon ourselves.
Nor. Do you think, my lords,
The king will suffer but the little finger
Cham. 'Tis now too certain :
How much more is his life in value with him? 'Would I were fairly out on't.
Crom. My mind gave me,
In seeking tales, and informations,
Ye blew the fire that burns ye: Now have at ye.
Enter KING, frowning on them; takes his seat.
Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince; Not only good and wise, but most religious: One that, in all obedience, makes the church The chief aim of his honour; and to strengthen That holy duty, out of dear respect, His royal self in judgment comes to hear The cause betwixt her and this great offender.
K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden commendations,
Good man [to CRANMER], sit down. Now let me see the
He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:
By all that's holy, he had better starve,
Than but once think this place becomes thee not.
Sur. May it please your grace,-
I had thought, I had had men of some understanding
This good man (few of you deserve that title),
Chan. Thus far,
My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace
K. Hen. Well, well, my lords, respect him;
Am, for his love and service, so to him.
Be friends, for shame, my lords. My lord of Canterbury,
I have a suit which you must not deny me;
This is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism,
Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory
K. Hen. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons ;*
Two noble partners with you; the old duchess of Norfolk,
Gar. With a true heart,
And brother-love, I do it.
Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation.
K. Hen. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart. The common voice, I see, is verified
Of thee, which says thus, Do my lord of Canterbury
*It was an ancient custom for sponsors to present spoons to their godchildren.
A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.—
SCENE III.-The Palace Yard.
Noise and tumult within. Enter PORTER and his MAN.
Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals: Do you take the court for Paris-garden ?* ye rude slaves, leave your gaping.+
[Within.] Good master porter, I belong to the larder.
Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, you rogue: Is this a place to roar in ?-Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones; these are but switches to them.-I'll scratch your heads: You must be seeing christenings? Do you look for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals?
Man. Pray, Sir, be patient; 'tis as much impossible
Man. Alas, I know not; How gets the tide in?
Port. You did nothing, Sir.
Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, to mow them down before me: but, if I spared any, that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker, let me never hope to see a chine again, and that I would not for a cow, God save her.
[Within.] Do you hear, master Porter?
Port. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.Keep the door close, sirrah.
Man. What would you have me do?
Port. What should you do, but knock them down by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? or have we some strange Indian with the great tool come to court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together.
Man. The spoons will be the bigger, Sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his face, for o' my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now reign in 's nose; all that stand 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 blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that railed upon me till her pink'd por
* The bear-garden on Bank-side.
ringer* fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the meteort once, and hit that woman, who cried out, clubs! when I might see from far some forty truncheoneers draw to her succour, which were the hope of the Strand, 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 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!
Your faithful friends o' the suburbs? We shall have
We are but men; and what so many may do,
Cham. As I live,
If the king blame me for 't, Ill 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 else.
SCENE IV.-The Palace.tt
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 standingbowls for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a *Pink'd cap. § Place of confinement. Black leather vessels to hold beer.
+ The brazier.
+ Two Puritan congregations.
tt At Greenwich.