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Enter Lord Chamberlain,
Cham. Mercy o'me, what a multitude are here! They grow ftill too; from all parts they are coming, As if we kept a fair. Where are these porters? Thefe lazy knaves? ye've made a fine hand, fellows? There's a trim rabble let in; are all these
Your faithful friends o' th' fuburbs? we fhall have
Great store of room, no doubt, left for the Ladies,
When they pass back from th' chriftning?
Port. Pleafe your Honour,
We are but men, and what fo 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 fuddenly; and on your heads
Clap round fines for neglect: y'are lazy knaves,
And here ye lye baiting of bombards, when
Ye fhould do fervice. Hark, the trumpets found,
They're come already from the christening;
Go break among the prefs, and find a way out
To let the troop pafs fairly; or I'll find
A Marfbalfea fhall hold ye play these two months.
Port. Make way there for the Princefs!
Man. You great fellow, ftand clofe up, or I'll make your head ake.
Port. You i' th' camblet, get up o' th' 'rail, I'll peck you o'er the pales elfe.
Enter trumpets founding; 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 chriftning gifts; then four Noble-
men bearing a canopy, under which the Dutchefs of Nor-
folk, god-mother, bearing the Child richly habited in a
mantle, &c. Train born by a Lady: then follows the
Marchioness of Dorfet, the other god-mother, and
Ladies. The troop pass once about the ftage, and Garter
Eav'n, from thy endless goodness fend long life,
And ever happy, to the high and mighty
Princefs of England, fair Elizabeth! ·
Flourish. Enter King and Guard.
Cran. And to your royal Grace, and the good Queen, My noble partners and my felf thus pray; All comfort, joy, in this moft gracious Lady, That heav'n e'er laid up to make parents happy, May hourly fall upon ye!
King. Thank you, good Lord Arch-bishop: What is her name? 2
King. Stand up, Lord.
With this kifs take my bleffing: God protect thee,
Into whofe hand I give thy life!
King. My noble goffips, you have been too prodigal, I thank ye heartily: fo fhall this Lady,
When he has fo much English..
Cran. Let me fpeak, 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 ftill move about her)
Though in her cradle, yet now promifes
Upon this land a thousand thousand bleffings,
Which time shall bring to ripenefs. She fhall be
(But few now living can behold that goodness)
A pattern to all Princes living with her,
And all that fhall fucceed, Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue,
Than this bleft foul fhall be. All Princely graces
That mould up fuch a mighty piece as this,
With all the virtues that attend the good,
Shall ftill be doubled on her. Truth fhall nurfe her:
Holy and heav'nly thoughts ftill counsel her:
She fhall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own fhall bless her;
Her foes fhake like a field of beaten corn,
And hang their heads with forrow. Good grows with her;
In her days ev'ry man fhall cat in fafety
Under his own vine, what he plants; and fing
The merry fongs of peace to all his neighbours.
God fhall be truly known, and those about her
From her fhall read the perfect ways of honour,
And claim by thofe their greatness, not by blood.
Nor fhall this peace fleep with her; but as, when
The bird of wonder dies, the maiden Phoenix,
Her afhes new create another heir,
As great in admiration as her felf;
So fhall fhe leave her bleffedness to one,
(When heav'n fhall call her from this cloud of darknefs) Who from the facred ashes of her honour
Shall ftar-like rife, as great in fame as fhe was,
And fo ftand fix'd. Peace, plenty, love, truth, terrour,
That were the fervants to this chofen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him;
Where-ever the bright fun of heav'n fhall fhine,
His honour and the greatnefs of his name,
Shall be, and make new nations. He fhall flourish,'
And like a mountain cedar reach his branches
To all the plains about him: children's children
Shall fee this, and blefs heav'n,
King. Thou fpeakeft wonders.
Cran. She fhall be, to the happiness of England,
An aged Princess; many days fhall see her,
And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
Would I had known no more! but the muft die,
She muft, the faints must have her yet a virgin;
A most unspotted lilly fhall the pafs
* 'Unto the ground, and all the world fhall mourn her.
King. O Lord Arch-bishop,
Thou ft made me now a man; never, before
This happy child, did I get any thing.
This oracle of comfort has fo pleas'd me,
That when I am in heav'n, I fhall defire
To fee 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 prefence,
And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, Lords;
Ye must all see the Queen, and she must thank ye,
She will be fick elfe. This day no man think
He'as business at his houfe, for all shall stay,
This little one shall make it holy-day.
2 To th'
3 you ... old edit. Thirl, emend.
T IS ten to one this play can never please All that are here: Some come to take their ease, And fleep an act or two; but those we fear We've frighted with our trumpets: fo 'tis clear They'll say it's naught. Others, to hear the city Abus'd extreamly, and to cry that's witty; Which we have not done neither; that I fear All the expected good w'are like to bear For this play at this time, is only in The merciful conftruction of good women; (For fuch a one we shew'd 'em) If they fmile, And fay 'twill do; I know within a while All the beft men are ours; for 'tis ill hap, If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap.