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Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may
In such an honour: how may I deserve it,
Two noble partners with you; the old Duchess of
And Lady Marquess Dorset: will these please
siege 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 With a true heart 170 haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that
Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you,
Embrace and love this man.
And brother-love, I do it.
The common voice, I see, is verified
Of thee, which says thus, 'Do my lord of Canter-
A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.'
SCENE IV.-The Palace Yard.
Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man.
Within. Good Master porter, I belong to the larder.
Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, ye rogue! Is this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones: these are but switches to 'em. 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 im-
Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons,
You did nothing, sir.
Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor
To mow 'em down before me; but if I spared any
Man. What would you have me do?
railed upon me till her pinked 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.
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? Ye have made a fine hand, fellows:
There's a trim rabble let in. Are all these
Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
As I live,
Port. Make way there for the princess.
SCENE V. The Palace.
Enter Trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, the Lord Mayor, Garter, CRANMER, the Duke of NORFOLK, with his marshal's staff, the Duke of SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standingbowls for the christening-gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of NORFOLK, godmother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, etc., 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 the KING and Train.
Cran. Kneeling. And to your royal grace, and
My noble partners, and myself, thus pray:
Thank you, good lord archbishop:
What is her name?
Stand up, lord. The KING kisses the Child. With this kiss take my blessing: God protect
Into whose hand I give thy life.
God shall be truly known; and those about her
Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour,
That were the servants to this chosen infant,
Shall see this and bless heaven.
K. Hen. My noble gossips, ye have been too This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me,
I thank ye heartily: so shall this lady
That, when I am in heaven, I shall desire
Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank ye;
'Tis ten to one this play can never please
And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits
Before PRIAM's Palace. Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS. Tro. Call here my varlet, I'll unarm again : Why should I war without the walls of Troy, That find such cruel battle here within? Each Trojan that is master of his heart, Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none. Pan. Will this gear ne'er be mended?
Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,
Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant ;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He that will have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding,
Tro. Have I not tarried?
Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
Tro. I was about to tell thee: when my heart, As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain, Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, I have, as when the sun doth light a storm, Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile; But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness, Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. Pan. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's, well, go to, there were no more comparison between the women: but for my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it, praise her; but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did: I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit, but
Tro. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,- 50 When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd, Reply not in how many fathoms deep They lie indrench'd. I tell thee I am mad In Cressid's love: thou answer'st, she is fair; Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart
Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice;
Handlest in thy discourse, O! that her hand,
Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me! I will leave all as I found it, and there an end.
Exit PANDARUS. An alarum. Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds!
Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
Ene. How now, Prince Troilus! wherefore not a-field?
Tro. Because not there: this woman's answer sorts,
For womanish it is to be from thence.
Tro. Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.'
But to the sport abroad: are you bound thither! Ene. In all swift haste.
Let her be
SCENE II.-The Same. A Street. Enter CRESSIDA and ALEXANDER. Cres. Who were those went by? Alex.
Pan. I speak no more than truth. Tro. Thou dost not speak so much. Pan. Faith, I'll not meddle in 't. as she is if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.
Tro. Good Pandarus, how now, Pandarus! Pan. I have had my labour for my travail; ill-thought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone between, and between, but small thanks for my labour.
Tro. What! art thou angry, Pandarus? what! with me?
Pan. Because she's kin to me, therefore she 's not so fair as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not an she were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me.
Tro. Say I she is not fair?
Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father: let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see her. For my part, I'll meddle nor make no more i' the matter.
Pan. Not I.
Tro. Sweet Pandarus,—
Queen Hecuba and Helen. Cres. And whither go they? Alex. Up to the eastern tower, Whose height commands as subject all the vale, To see the battle. Hector, whose patience Is, as a virtue, fix'd, to-day was mov'd: He chid Andromache, and struck his armourer; And, like as there were husbandry in war, Before the sun rose he was harness'd light, And to the field goes he; where every flower Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw In Hector's wrath.
A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
Cres. So do all men; unless they are drunk, 90 sick, or have no legs.
Alex. This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts of their particular additions: he is as valiant
as the lion, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant; a man into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with discretion: there is no man hath a virtue that he hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he carries some stain of it. He is melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair he hath the joints of every thing, but every thing so out of joint that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight. Cres. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector angry?
Alex. They say he yesterday coped Hector in the battle and struck him down; the disdain and shame whereof hath ever since kept Hector fasting and waking.
Cres. Who comes here?
Alex. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
Cres. Hector's a gallant man.
Alex. As may be in the world, lady. Pan. What's that? what's that?
Pan. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
Cres. Then Troilus should have too much: if she praised him above, his complexion is higher than his: he having colour enough, and the other 40 higher, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose.
Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.
Cres. O Jupiter! there's no comparison.
Pan. What! not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man if you see him?
Pan. Why, he is very young; and yet will he, within three pound, lift as much as his brother Hector.
Cres. Is he so young a man, and so old a lifter? Pan. But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin
Cres. Juno have mercy! how came it cloven? Pan. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think his smiling becomes him better than any man in all Phrygia.
Cres. O he smiles valiantly.
Pan. Does he not?
Cres. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn.
Cres. Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew that Helen loves Troilus,——— him.
Cres. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so.
Pan. Troilus! why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg.
Cres. If you lovean addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i' the shell. Pan. I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled his chin: indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess,-