I should have been beholden to your paper. 1 Gen. That I can tell you too; the Archbishop Of Canterbary, accompanied with other Learned and rev'rend fathers of his order, 2 Gen. Alas, good lady! The trumpets found; ftand clofe, the Queen is coming. [Hautboys. The The Order of the Coronation. 1. A lively flourish of trumpets. 2. Then, two Judges. 3. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before him. 4. Chorifters finging. [Mufick. 5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter in his coat of arms, and on his head a gilt copper crown. 6. Marquis of Dorfet, bearing a Scepter of gold, on his bead a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of filver with the dove, crowned with an Earl's coronet. Callars of SS. 7. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of ftate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as High Steward. With him the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS. 8. A canopy born by four of the Cinque-ports, under it the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each fide her, the bishops of London and Winchester. 9. The old Dutchefs of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train. 10. Certain Ladies or Counteffes, with plain circlets of gold without flowers. They pass over the ftage in order and ftate, and then Exeunt, with a great flourish of trumpets. 2 Gen. A royal train, believe me; these I know; Who's that, who bears the scepter? 1 Gen. Marquis Dorfet. And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod. 2 Gen. A bold brave gentleman. That should be The Duke of Suffolk. 1 Gen. 'Tis the fame: High Steward. 2 Gen. And that my Lord of Norfolk. 1 Gen. Yes. 2 Gen. Heav'n bless thee! Thos Thou haft the fweeteft face I ever look'd on. Our King has all the Indies in his arms, 1 Gen. They, that bear The cloth of ftate above her, are four barons 2 Gen. Those men are happy; fo are all, are near her. I take it, fhe that carries up the train, Is that old noble lady, the dutchefs of Norfolk. 1 Gen. It is, and all the reft are counteffes. 2 Gen. Their coronets fay fo. These are stars, indeed : And fometimes falling ones. 1 Gen. No more of that. Enter a third Gentleman. God fave you, Sir! Where have you been broiling? 2 Gen. You faw the ceremony? 3 Gen. I did. 1 Gen. How was it? 3 Gen. Well worth the feeing. 2 Gen. Good Sir, fpeak it to us. 3 Gen. As well as I am able. The rich ftream A diftance from her; while her Grace fat down Doublets, Doublets, I think, flew up; and had their faces 2 Gen. But, pray, what follow'd ? 3 Gen. At length her Grace rofe, and with modeft paces The rod, and bird of peace, and all fuch emblems 1 Gen. You must no more call it York-Place, that's paft. For fince the Cardinal fell, that title's loft, 'Tis now the King's, and call'd Whitehall. 3 Gen. I know it : But 'tis fo lately alter'd, that the old name 2 Gen. What two reverend bishops Were thofe, that went on each fide of the Queen? 3 Gen. Stofkefly and Gardiner; the one of Winchester, Newly preferr'd from the King's Secretary: The other, London. 2 Gen. He of Winchester Is held no great good lover of th' Archbishop, 3 Gen. All the land knows that: However, yet there's no great breach; when't comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. 2 Gen. 2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you ? 3 Gen. Thomas Cromwell, A man in much efteem with th' King, and, truly, And one, already, of the privy-council. 3 Gen. Yes, without all doubt. Come, gentlemen, you fhall go my way, Which is to th' Court, and there fhall be my guests: Something I can command; as I walk thither, I'll tell ye more. Both. You may command us, Sir. SCENE changes to Kimbolton. [Exeunt. Enter Catharine Dowager, fick, led between Griffith her gentleman-ufher, and Patience her woman. Grif⋅ Ho OW does your Grace? Cath. O Griffith, fick to death: My legs, like loaded branches, bow to th' earth, So -now, methinks, I feel a little ease. [Sitting down. Grif. Yes, Madam; but I think, your Grace, For my example. Grif. Well, the voice goes, Madam. For after the ftout Earl of Northumberland Arrested him at York, and brought him forward (As a man forely tainted) to his answer, He fell fick fuddenly, and grew so ill He could not fit his mule. Cath. Alas, poor man! |