cried out, Clubs !! when I might see from far some forty troncheoneers draw to her succor, 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 honor in, and leị them win the work. The devil was amongst them, 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-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 honor, We are but men; and what so many may do, Not being torn a pieces, we have done. An army cannot rule them.

1 See note on the First Part of King Henry VI. Act i. Sc. 3.
2 Shooters.
3 i. e. the fortress; it is a term in fortification.

4 By the tribulation of Tower-hill and the limbs of Limehouse it is evident that Shakspeare meant noisy rabble frequenting the theatres, supposed to come from those places.

5 i. e. in confinement. The Limbus Patrum is, properly, the place where the old fathers and patriarchs are supposed to be waiting for the resurrection.

6 A public whipping.

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 ache.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The Palace.3

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 standing-bowls 4 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.

1 A bumbard was a large black jack of leather used to carry beer to soldiers upon duty, or upon any occasion where a quantity was required.

2 To pick is to pitch, cast, or throw.
3 At Greenwich.
4 Standing-bowls were bowls elevated on feet or pedestals.
VOL. v.

30

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.

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 loved and feared; her own shall bless her;
Her foes sbake like a field of beaten corn,
And hang their heads with sorrow. Good

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 neighbors.
God shall be truly known; and those about her
From her shall read the perfect ways of honor,
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 honor,
Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was,
And so stand fixed. 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 honor 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 pleased me,

1 Some of the commentators think that this and the following seventeen lines were probably written by Ben Johnson, after the accession of king James. We have before observed Mr. Gifford is of opinion that Ben Jonson had no hand in the additions to this play.

2 The year before the revival of this play there was a lottery for the plantation of Virginia. The lines probably allude to the settlement of that colony.

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 received much honor by your presence,
And
ye

shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords ;
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.