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He that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
By all that's holy, he had better starve,
Than but once think this place becomes thee not.

Sur. May't please your Grace

King. No, Sir, it does not please me.
I thought I had men of understanding
And wisdom, of my council; but I findi none.
Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
This good man, (few of you deserve that title)
This honest man, wait like a lowsie foot-boy
At chamber door, and one as great as you are?
Why what a shame was this ? did

my

commission
Bid ye so far forget your selves! I gave ye
Pow'r, 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 mcans ;
Which ye shall never have, while I do live.
Cham. My most dread Sovereign, may ir like your

Grace
To let my tongue excuse all. Whas was purpos'd
Concerning his imprisonment, was rather,
If there be faith in men, meant for his tryal,
And fair purgation to the world, than malice;
I'm sure in me,

King. Well, well, my lords respect him ;
Take him, and use him well; he's worthy of it,
I will fay thus much for him, If a Prince
May be beholden to a subject, I
Am, for his love and service, fo 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.
There 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? King. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare yourfpoons: you shall have

Two

Two noble partners with you: the old Dutchess
Of Norfolk, and the lady Marguess Dorfor
Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you
Embrace and love this man.

Gard. With a true heart
And brother's love I do it.

Cran. And let heav'n
Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation.
King. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true

heart;
The common voice I fee is verify'd
Of thee, which says thus : do my lord of Canterbury
But one shrewd turn, and he's

your
Come, lords, we trifle time away: I long
To have this young one made a christian.
As I have made ye one, lords, one remain :
So I grow stronger, ye more honour gain. [Exe,

friend for ever

SCENE VII,

You'll

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

(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,

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

still
too;

from all parts they are coming,
As if we kept a fair. Where are these porters?
These lazy knaves ? ye've made a fine hand, fellows:
There's a trim rabble let in; are all these
Your faithful friends oth' suburbs? we shall have
Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
When they pass back from the cristning?

Port. Please your honour,
We are but men, and what so many may do,
Not being torn in pieces, we have done:
An army cannot rule 'em.

Cham, As I live,
If the King blame me for 't, I'll lay ye all
By th' heels, and suddenly; and on your heads
Clap round fines for neglect: y'are lazy, knaves,
And here ye lye baiting of bombards, when
Ye should do service. Hark, the trumpets found,
Th’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 ye 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'th' camblet, get up o'ch' rail, I'll peck you o'er the pales else.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE VIII.

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:
What is her name?

Cran, Elizabeth.
King. Stand

up..

lord. With this kifs take my blessing: God protect thee, Into whose hand I give thy life.

Cran. Amen.

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,

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