« PreviousContinue »
He that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
Sur. May't please your Grace
King. No, Sir, it does not please me.
There's some of ye, I see,
King. Well, well, my lords respect him ;
Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory In such an honour ; how
I deserve it, That am a poor and humble subject to you? King. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare yourfpoons: you shall have
Two noble partners with you: the old Dutchess
Gard. With a true heart
Cran. And let heav'n
friend for ever
Noise and tumult within: Enter Porter and his man. Port Ou'll leave your noise añon, ye rascals; do
you take the court - for. Paris Garden? ye: rude slaves, leave your gaping.
Within. Good Mr. Porter, I belong to th' larder.
Port. Belong to the gallows and be hang'd, 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 christnings? do you
look for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals? Man. Pray Sir, be patient; 'tis as much impossible (Unless we swept them from the door with cannons) To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep On May-day morning, which will never be : We may as well puth against Paul's, as ftir 'em.
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 Ì made no spare, Sir.
Port. You did nothing, Sir.
Man. I am not Sampson, nor Sir Guy, nor Cole. brand, to mow 'em down before me; but if I spar'd any that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or Thé, 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, Mr. Porter!
Port. I shall be with you presently, good Mr. Pap. py. Keep the door close, firrah.
Man. What would you have me do?
Port. What should you do, but knock 'em down by the dozens? is this Morefields 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 the door? on my christian conscience, this one chriftning will beget a thousand, here will be father, god-father, and all together,
Man. The spoons will be the bigger, Sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brasier by his face, for o'my conscience twenty of the dog-days now reign in's nore; 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 up. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that rail'd upon me 'till her pink'd porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I mist the meteor once, and hic that woman, who cry'd out Clubs, when I might see some forty truncheons draw to her succour, which were the hope of the strand, where she was quarter'd. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to the broom-staff with me, i defy'd 'em ftill; when suddenly a file of boys behind 'em deliver'd such a fhower of pibbles, loose shot, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let 'em win the work; the devil was amongst 'em, I think surely.
Port. These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience but the tribulation of Tower-hilt or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have fome of 'em 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 Lord Chamberlain,
Cham. Mercy o'me : what a multitude are here? They grow
from all parts they are coming,
Port. Please your honour,
Cham, As I live,
Port. Make way there for the Princess.
Man. You great fellow, stand close up, or I'll make your head ake.
Port. You i'th' camblet, get up o'ch' rail, I'll peck you o'er the pales else.
Enter trumpets founding:; then two Aldermen, Lord
Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with higt Marshal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, two noblemen bearing great standing bowls for the chriftning gifts; then four noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Dutchefs of Norfolk, god-mother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, .&c. Train born by a lady; then follows the marchionefs of Dorset, the other god-mother, and ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks: Gart. Heav'n, from thy .endless goodness send long
life, And ever happy, to the high and mighty Princess of England, fair Elizabeth.
Flourish. Enter King and Guard. Cran. And to your royal Grace, and the good Queen, My noble partners and my self thus pray: All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady, That heav'n e'er laid up to make parents happy, May hourly fall upon ye!
King. Thank you, good lord Arch-bilhop:
lord. With this kifs take my blessing: God protect thee, Into whose hand I give thy life.
King. My noble gossips, y'have been too prodigala I thank ye heartily: ro Thall this lady, When she has so much English.
Cran. Let me speak, Sir, (For heav'n now bids me) and the words I utter, Let none think flatt'ry; for they'll find 'em truth. This royal infant, (heav'n still move about her) Though in her cradle, yet now promises Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,