The Plays of Shakspeare

Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
I mean, in perjur'd witness, than your master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he liv'd
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to ;
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.

Cran. God, and your majesty,
Protect mine innocence, or 1 fall into
The trap, is laid for me!

K. Hen. Be of good cheer;

They shall no more prevail, than we give way to.
Keep comfort to you; and this morning see
You do appear before them: if they shall chance,
In charging you with matters, to commit you,
The best persuasions to the contrary
Fail not to use, and with what vehemency
The occasion shall instruct you; if entreaties
Will render you no remedy, this ring
Deliver them, and your appeal to us

There make before them.-Look, the good man weeps!

He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest mother!

I swear, he is true-hearted; and a soul
None better in my kingdom.-Get you gone,
And do as I have bid you.-[Exit Cranmer.
He has strangled

His language in his tears.

Enter an old Lady.

Gent. Within. Come back; what mean you? Lady. I'll not come back; the tidings, that I bring,

Will make my boldness manners.-Now, good angels

Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person Under their blessed wings!

K. Hen. Now, by thy looks
I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver’d?
Say, ay; and of a boy.

Lady. Ay, ay, my liege;
And of a lovely boy: The God of heaven
Both now and ever bless her!-'tis a girl,
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen
Desires your visitation, and to be

Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you,
As cherry is to cherry.

K. Hen. Lovell,

SCENE II.-Lobby before the Council-chamber. Enter CRANMER; Servants, Door-keeper, &c. attending.

Cran. I hope, I am not too late; and yet the gentleman,

That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me To make great haste. All fast? what means this?-Hoa?

Who waits there? Sure you know me?
D. Keep. Yes, my lord;
But yet I cannot help you.
Cran. Why?

D. Keep. Your grace must wait till you be call'd for.

Cran. So.

Enter Doctor BUTTS.

Butts. This is a piece of malice. I am glad I came this way so happily: The king Shall understand it presently.

[Exit Butts.

Cran. Aside.] "Tis Butts, The king's physician: As he past along, How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For certain,

This is of purpose laid, by some that hate me, (God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice,)

To quench mine honour: they would shame to make me

Wait else at door; a fellow counsellor, Among boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures

Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.

Enter at a window above, the King and BUTTS. Butts. I'll show your grace the strangest sight,— K. Hen. What's that, Butts?

Butts. I think, your highness saw this many a day.

K. Hen. Body o' me, where is it?
Butts. There, my lord:

The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury;

Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants,

Pages, and footboys.

K. Hen. Ha! 'Tis he, indeed : Is this the honour they do one another? 'Tis well, there's one above them yet. I had thought,

They had parted so much honesty among them,
(At least, good manners,) as not thus to suffer
A man of his place, and so near our favour,
To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures,
And at the door, too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery:
Let them alone, and draw the curtain close;
We shall hear more anon.—
[Exeunt.

The Council-chamber.

Enter the Lord Chancellor, the Duke of SUFFOLK, Earl of SURREY, Lord Chamberlain, GARDINER, and CROMWELL. The Chancellor places himself at the upper end of the table on the left hand; a seat being left void above him, as for the Archbishop of CANTERBURY. The rest seat themselves in order on each side. CROMWELL at the lower end, as secretary.

Chan. Speak to the business, master secretary: Why are we met in council?

Crom. Please your honours,

The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury.
Gar. Has he had knowledge of it?
Crom. Yes..

Nor. Who waits there ?

D. Keep. Without, my noble lords?
Gar. Yes.

D. Keep. My lord archbishop;

Both in his private conscience, and his place,
Defacers of a public peace, than I do.
Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it! Men, that make
Envy, and crooked malice, nourishment,
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships,
That, in this case of justice, my accusers,
And freely urge against me.
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,

Suf Nay, my lord,

That cannot be; you are a counsellor,
And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you.

Gar. My lord, because we have business of
more moment,

We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness'
pleasure,

And our consent, for better trial of you,
From hence you be committed to the Tower;
Where, being but a private man again,
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,

And has done half an hour, to know your plea- More than, I fear, you are provided for.

Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little,
Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling
The whole realm, by your teaching, and your
chaplains,

(For so we are inform'd,) with new opinions,
Divers, and dangerous; which are heresies,
And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious.

Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords: for those, that tame wild horses, Pace them not in their hands to make them gentle; But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur them,

Till they obey the manage. If we suffer
(Out of our easiness, and childish pity

To one man's honour) this contagious sickness,
Farewell, all physic: And what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neigh-
bours,

The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the pro-
gress

Both of my life and office, I have labour'd,
And with no little study, that my teaching,
And the strong course of my authority,
Might go one way, and safely; and the end
Was ever, to do well: nor is there living
(I speak it with a single heart, my lords,)
A man, that more detests, more stirs against,

Cran. Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you,

You are always my good friend; if your will
pass,

I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
You are so merciful: I see your end,
'Tis my undoing: Love, and meekness, lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition;
Win straying souls with modesty again,
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience,
I make as little doubt, as you do conscience,
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary,
That's the plain truth; your painted gloss dis-

covers,

To men that understand you, words and weak

ness.

Crom. My lord of Winchester, you are a little,
By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect
For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty,
To load a falling man.

Gar. Good master secretary,

I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
Of all this table, say so.

Crom. Why, my lord?

Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer
Of this new sect? ye are not sound.
Crom. Not sound?

Gar. Not sound, I say.

Crom. 'Would you were half so honest! Men's prayers then would seek you, not their

fears.

Gar. I shall remember this bold language,
Crom. Do.

Remember your bold life too.

Chan. This is too much;
Forbear, for shame, my lords.
Gar. I have done.
Crom. And I.

Chan. Then thus for you, my lord,-It stands | By all that's holy, he had better starve, agreed,

I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
You be conveyed to the Tower a prisoner ;
There to remain, till the king's further pleasure
Be known unto us: Are you all agreed, lords?
All. We are.

Cran. Is there no other way
of mercy,
But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?

Must I go like a traitor thither?

Gar. Receive him,

And see him safe i'the Tower.

Cran. Stay, good my lords,

I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords;
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it
To a most noble judge, the king my master.
Cham. This is the king's ring.
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
Of this man to be vex'd?

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,
Against this man, (whose honesty the devil
And his disciples only envy at,)

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 com-
mendations,

Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence;
They are too thin and base to hide offences.
To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel,
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me;
But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure
Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody.-
Good man, To Cranmer.] sit down. Now let
me see the proudest

He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:

Than but once think his place becomes thee not. Sur. May it please your grace,

K. Hen. No, sir, it does not please me. I had thought, I had had men of some understanding

And wisdom, of my council; but I find none.
Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
This good man, (few of you deserve that title,)
This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy
At chamber-door? and one as great as you are?
Why, what a shame was this? Did my commis-
sion

Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
Power as he was a counsellor to try him,
Not as a groom; There's some of ye, I see,
More out of malice than integrity,
Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean;
Which ye shall never have while I live.

Chan. Thus far,

My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd Concerning his imprisonment, was rather

(If there be faith in men,) meant for his trial, And fair purgation to the world, than malice; I am sure, in me.

K. Hen. Well, well, my lords, respect him ;
Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him, If a prince
May be beholden to a subject, I

Am, for his love and service, so to him.
Make me no more ado, but all embrace him;
Be friends, for shame, my lords.-My lord of
Canterbury,

I have a suit, which you must not deny me;
That is, a fair young maid, that yet wants baptism,
You must be godfather, and answer for her.

Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory

In such an honour; How may I deserve it, That am a poor and humble subject to you? K. Hen. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons; you shall have' Two noble partners with you; the old duchess of Norfolk,

And lady marquiss Dorset; will these please you? Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you, Embrace, and love this man.

Gar. With a true heart, And brother-love, I do it.

Cran. And let heaven

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 hang'd, 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

(Unless we sweep them from the door with

cannons,)

To scatter them, as 'tis to make them sleep
On May-day morning; which will never be :
We may as well push against Paul's, as stir them.
Port. How got they in, and be hang'd?
Man. Alas, I know not; How gets the tide in?
As much as one sound cudgel of four foot
(You see the poor remainder) could distribute,
I made no spare, sir.

Port. You did nothing, sir.

Man. I am not Sampson, 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 cuckoldmaker, 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.

cheoneers 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 among 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! 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 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 them.

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: You are lazy
knaves;

And here ye lie baiting of bumbards, when
Ye should do service. Hark, the trumpets sound;
They are 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

months.

Port. Make way there for the princess. Man. You great fellow, stand close up, or I'll make your head ake.

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

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-Enter 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 porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cried out, clubs! when I might see from far some forty trun

SCENE IV. The palace. 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, godmother, 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 Gar- The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours: ter 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?

Cran. Elizabeth.

K. Hen. Stand up, lord.

The King kisses the Child. With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee! Into whose hands I give thy life.

Cran. Amen.

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

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

Cran. Let me speak, sir,

For Heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
Let none think flattery, for they'll find them 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: Sheba 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 lov'd, and fear'd: Her own shall

bless her:

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

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 phœnix,
Her ashes new create another heir,
As great in admiration as herself;
So shall she leave her blessedness to one,
(When heaven shall call her from this cloud of
darkness,)

Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour,
Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was,
And so stand fix'd: Peace, plenty, love, truth,

terror,

That were the servants to this chosen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him;
Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
His honour and the greatness of his name
Shall be, and make new nations: He shall flourish,
And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
To all the plains about him :-Our children's
children

Shall see this, and bless heaven.

K. Hen. Thou speakest wonders.

Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of England,
An aged princess; many days shall see her,
And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
'Would I had known no more! but she must die,
She must, the saints must have her ; yet a virgin,
A most unspotted lily shall she pass
To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her.
K. Hen. O lord archbishop,

Thou hast made me now a man; never, before
This happy child, did I get any thing:
This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me,
That, when I am in heaven, I shall desire
To see what this child does, and praise my
Maker.-

I thank ye all,-To you, my good lord mayor,
And your good brethren, I am much beholden;
I have receiv'd much honour by your presence,
And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way,
lords ;-

Yemust all see the queen, and she must thank ye,
She will be sick else. This day, no man think
He has business at his house; for all shall stay,
This little one shall make it holiday. [Exeunt.

EPILOGUE.

"Tis ten to one, this play can never please
All that are here: Some come to take their ease,
And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear,
They'll say, 'tis naught: others, to hear the city
Abus'd extremely, and to cry,—that's witty!
Which we have not done neither: that, I fear,
All the expected good we are like to hear

For this play at this time, is only in
The merciful construction of good women;
For such a one we show'd them: If they smile,
And say, 'twill do, I know, within a while
All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
If they hold, when their ladies bid them clap.

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The Plays of Shakspeare, Volume 2