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.

5 — running banquet of two beadles,] A publick whipping. A banquet, in ancient language, did not signify either dinner or supper,

but the desert after each of them.

here ye lie baiting of bumbards,] A bumbard is an alebarrel; to bait bumbards is to tipple, to lie at the spigot.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The Palace.8

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 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 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 ;

7- I'll pick you o'er the pales else,] To pick is to pitch. The Palace.] At Greenwich, where this procession was made from the church of the Friars.

pedestals.

standing-bowls-] i. e. bowls elevated on feet or

Heaven, from thy endless goodness, &c.] These words are not the invention of the poet, having been pronounced at the christening of Elizabeth.

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.

K. Hen.

Elizabeth.

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
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,

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.

2

K. Hen.

Thou speakest wonders.]

[Nor shall this peace sleep with her: &c.] These lines, to the interruption by the king, seem to have been inserted at some revisal of the play, after the accession of King James. If the passage, included in crotchets, be left out, the speech of Cranmer proceeds in a regular tenour of prediction, and continuity of sentiments; but, by the interposition of the new lines, he first celebrates Elizabeth's successor, and then wishes he did not know that she was to die; first rejoices at the consequence, and then laments the cause. Our author was at once politick and idle; he resolved to flatter James, but neglected to reduce the whole speech to propriety; or perhaps intended that the lines inserted should be spoken in the action, and omitted in the publication, if any publication was ever in his thoughts. Mr. Theobald has made the same observation. JOHNSON.

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 shall find me thankful. Lead the way,
lords;

ye

Ye must 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

3 The play of Henry the Eighth is one of those which still keeps possession of the stage by the splendour of its pageantry. The coronation, about forty years ago, drew the people together in multitudes for a great part of the winter.* Yet pomp is not the only merit of this play. The meek sorrows and virtuous distress of Katharine have furnished some scenes, which may be justly numbered among the greatest efforts of tragedy. But the genius of Shakspeare comes in and goes out with Katharine. Every other part may be easily conceived and easily written.

JOHNSON.

* Chetwood says that, during one season, it was exhibited 75 times.