« EdellinenJatka »
Cham. 'Tis now too certain.
Crom. My mind gave me,
S CE N E. VI.
King. You're ever good at sudden commendations, Bishop of Winchester. But know, I conie not To hear such flatteries now; and in my presence They are too thin and base to hide offences. To me you cannot reach : you play the Spaniel, And think with wagging of your tongue to win me. But whatsoe'er thui tak’st me for, I'm sure Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody. Good man fit down. Now let me see the proudest
He that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
Sur. May't pleafe your Grace
King. No, sir, it does not please me.
Pow'r, as he was a counsellor, to try him,
King. Well, well, my Lords, respect him :
Gran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory
fpoons : you shall have,
Gard With a true heart
Cran. And let Heaven
King Good man, those joyful tears fhew thy true
SCENE VII. The palace-yard. Noife and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man.
Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals; do you take the court for Paris Garden? ye rude flaves, 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 christenings? Do you look for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals ?
Man. Pray, Sir, be patient; 'tis as much impoffible (Unless we sweep them from the door with cannons) To fcatter 'em, as ’tis to make 'em sleep On May-day morning; which will never be ;
e may as well push against Paul's, as ftir 'em.
Man. Alas, I know not; how gets the tide in !
Port. You did nothing, Sir.
N'an. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colebrand, to mow’em down before me ; but if I spared any that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker, let me never hope to see a chine again; and that I would not for a crow, God save her. Within. Do you hear, Mr. Porter ?
Port. I thall be with you prefently, good Mr. Puppy. Keep the door close, firrali. Man. What would
have me do ? Port. What should you do, but knock 'em down by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to multer 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 con. science, this one chriitening will beget a thousand ; here will be father, godfather, and all together.
Man. The fpoons will be the bigger, Sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a bralier by his face; for, o' my conscience, twenty of the dog
days now reign in's nose; all that stand about him are under the line, they need no other penance: that firedrake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged againit me; he stands there like a mortar-piece to blow us up. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit hear him, that rail'd upon me till her pink'd porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the itate. I miss'd the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cry'd out, Clubs! when I might see from far some forty truncheoneers draw to her luccour; 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 th' broom-staff with me, I defy'd 'em fill; when suddenly a file of boys behind 'em deliver'd such a shower of pibbles, loose thot, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let'em win the work. The devil was amongst 'eni, 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 Lime. house, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some 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.
Port. Please your Honour,
Cham. As I live,
And here ye lie baiting of bumbards, when
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'th'rail, I'll peck you o'er the pales else.
SCENE III. Changes to the palace. Enter trumpets founding ; then two Aldermen, Lord
Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with his Marshal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bear., ing great standing bowls for the christening-gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchefiof Norfolk,godmother, bearing the childrichly habited in a mantle, &c. train borne by a Lady: then follows the Marchionefs of Dorset, the other godmother, and ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speake.
Gart. Heav'n, from thy endless goodness, fend long And ever happy, to the high and mighty [life, Princess of England, .fair Elisabeth !
Flourish. Enter King and Guard. Cran. And to your Royal Grace, and the good Queen, My noble partners, and myłelf 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 Archbishop:
King. My noble gossips, y’have been too prodigal, I thank you heartily: to thall this lady,