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Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart SCENE III. The Council-Chainber.
With less allegiance in it! Men that make Enter Lord CHANCELLOR; places himself at Envy and crooked malice nourishment
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships, the upper end of the table on the left hand; a seat being left void above him, as for CANTER- That, in this case of justice, my accusers, BURY's seat. Duke of SUFFOLK, DUKE OF
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face, NORFOLK, SURREY, LORD CHAMBERLAIN, GAR- And freely urge against me. DINER, seat themselves in order on each side. Suf.
Nay, my lord, CROMWELL at lowerend, as secretary. Keeper That cannot be: you are a counsellor,
And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you. 50 at the door.
Gar. My lord, because we have business of Chan. Speak to the business, master secre- more moment, tary :
We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness' Why are we met in council?
Please your honours, And our consent, for better trial of you, The chief cause concerns his grace of Canter- From hence you be committed to the Tower; bury.
Where, being but a private man again, Gar. Has he had knowledge of it?
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly, Cromn.
Yes. More than, I fear, you are provided for. Nor.
Who waits there? Cran. Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I Keep.
Without, my noble lords? Gar.
You are always my good friend; if your will pass, Keep.
My lord archbishop: I shall both find your lordship judge and juror, 66 And has done half an hour, to know your plea- You are so merciful: I see your end;
my undoing: love and meekness, lord, Chan. . Let him come in.
Become a churchman better than ambition :
Your grace may enter now. Win straying souls with modesty again,
the council-table. Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, Chan. My good lord archbishop, I'm very I make as little doubt, as you do conscience sorry
In doing daily wrongs.
I could say more, To sit here at this present, and behold
But reverence to your calling makes me modest. That chair stand empty: but we all are men,
Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary, 70 tIn our own natures frail, and capable
That's the plain truth: your painted gloss disOf our flesh; few are angels: out of which frailty covers, And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach To men that understand you, words and weak
us, Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little, Crom. My Lord of Winchester, you are a Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling
little, The whole realm, by your teaching and your By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble, chaplains,
However faulty, yet should find respect
Good master secretary, Gár. Which reformation must be sudden too, I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses Of all this table, say so. Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, Crom.
Why, my lord? But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and Gar. Do not I know
you for a favourer
80 spur 'em,
Of this new sect? ye are not sound. Till they obey the manage. If we suffer,
Not sound? Out of our easiness and childish pity
Gar. Not sound, I say. To one man's honour, this contagious sickness, Crom.
Would you were half so honest! Farewell all physic: and what follows then? Men's prayers then would seek you, not their Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
fears. Of the whole state : as, of late days, our neigh- Gar. I shall remember this bold language. bours,
This is too much; Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the Forbear, for shame, my lords. progress
I have done. Both of my life and office, I have labour’d,
And I, And with no little study, that my teaching
Chan. Then thus for you, my lord: it stands And the strong course of my authority
agreed, Might go one way, and safely; and the end
I take it,
all voices, that forthwith Was ever, to do well: nor is there living,
You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner; I speak it with a single heart, my lords,
There to remain till the king's further pleasure A man that more detests, more stirs against,
Be known unto us; are you all agreed, lords? 91 Both in his private conscience and his place, 40
All Defacers of a public peace,
than I do.
But I must needs to the Tower, my lords? Why, what a shame was this! Did my comGar.
What other mission Would you expect? you are strangely trouble- Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
Power as he was a counsellor to try him, Let some o' the guard be ready there.
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 mean; Cran.
For me? Which ye shall never have while I live. Must I go like a traitor thither?
Thus far, Gar.
Receive him, My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace And see him safe i' the Tower.
To let ny tongue excuse all. What was purCran.
Stay, good my lords, posed I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords; Concerning his imprisonment, was rather, 150 By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
If there be faith in men, meant for his trial, Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it And fair purgation to the world, than malice, To a most noble judge, the king my master. I'm sure, in me. Cham. This is the king's ring.
King. Well, well, my lords, respect him; Sur.
'Tis no counterfeit. | Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it. Suf. 'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told I will say thus much for him, if a prince
May be beholding to a subject, I When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling, Am, for his love and service, so to him. 'Twould fall upon ourselves.
Make me no more ado, but all embrace him: Nor.
Do you think, my lords, Be friends, for shame, my lords! My Lord of The king will suffer but the little finger
160 Of this man to be vex'd?
I have a suit which you must not deny me; Chan.
'Tis now too certain : That is, a fair young maid that yet wants bapHow much more is his life in value with him?
tism, Would I were fairly out on't!
You must be godfather, and answer for her. Crom.
My mind gave me, Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may In seeking tales and informations
That am a poor and humble subject to you?
your spoons: you shall have two noble partners Enter King, frowning on them; takes his seat. with you; the old Duchess of Norfolk, and Lady
Marquess Dorset: will these please you? 170 Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge bound to heaven
you, In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;
Embrace and love this man. Not only good and wise, but most religious : Gar.
With a true heart One that, in all obedience, makes the church And brother-love I do it. The chief aim of his honour; and, to strengthen Cran.
And let heaven That holy duty, out of dear respect,
Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation. His royal self in judgement comes to hear
King. Good man, those joyful tears show thy se betwixt her and this great offender.
true heart: King. You were ever good at sudden com- The common voice, I see, is verified mendations,
Of thee, which says thus, ‘Do my Lord of CanBishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
terbury To hear such flattery now, and in my presence; A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.' They are too thin and bare to hide offences. Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel, To have this young one made a Christian. 180 And think with wagging of your tongue to win As I have made ye one, lords, one remain; me;
So I grow stronger, you more honour gain. But, whatsoe'er thou takest me for, I'm sure
(Exeunt. Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody. [To Cranmer] Good man, sit down. Now let me
SCENE IV. The palace yard. see the proudest
130 He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:
Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and By all that's holy, he had better starve
his Man. Than but once think this place becomes thee not. Sur. May it please your grace,
Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals: King.
No, sir, it does not please me. do you take the court for Paris-garden? ye rude I had thought I had had men of some under- slaves, leave your gaping. standing
[Within] Good master porter, I belong to the And wisdom of my council ; but I find none. larder. Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, This good man,-few of you deserve that title,- ye rogue! is this a place to roar in? Fetch me a This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy 139 dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones: these At chamber-door? and one as great as you are? are but switches to 'em. I'll scratch your heads :
you must be seeing christenings? do you look for They grow still too; from all parts they are comale and cakes here, you rude rascals?
ing, Man. Pray, sir, be patient: 'tis as much im- As if we kept a fair here! Where are these possible
porters, Unless we sweep 'em from the door with can- These lazy knaves? Ye have made a fine hand,
fellows: To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep
There's a trim rabble let in: are all these On May-day morning; which will never be: Your faithful friends o' the suburbs? We shall We may as well push against Powle's, as stir'em. have
Port. How got they in, and be hang'd? Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
Man. Alas, i know not; how gets the tide in? When they pass back from the christening. As much as one sound cudgel of four foot
An't please your honour, You see the poor remainder-could distribute, 20 We are but men; and what so many may do, I made no spare, sir.
Not being torn a-pieces, we have done:
80 Port, You did nothing, sir.
An army cannot rule 'em. Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Cha1n.
As I live, Colbrand,
If the king blame me for't, I'll lay ye all To mow 'em down before me: but if I spared any By the heels, and suddenly; and on your heads That had a head to hit, either young or old, Clap round fines for neglect: ye are lazy knaves; He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker,
And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again;
Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets And that I would not for a cow, God save her! sound;
[Within] Do you hear, master porter? They're come already from the christening:
Port. I shall' be with you presently, good Go, break among the press, and find a way out master puppy.
Keep the door close, sirrah. 30 To let the troop pass fairly; or I'll find Man, What would you have me do?
A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two Port. What should you do, but knock 'em months.
90 down by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to mus- Port. Make way there for the princess. ter in? or have we some strange Indian with the Man.
You great fellow, great tool come to court, the women so besiege Stand close up, or I'll make your head ache. us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at Port. You i' the camlet, get up o' the rail ; door! On my Christian conscience, this one I'll peck you o'er the pales else. [Exeunt. christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together.
SCENE V. The palace. Man. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he Enter trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, should be a brazier by his face, for, o' my con
LORD MAYOR, GARTER, CRANMER, DUKE OF science, twenty of the dog-days now reign in's
NORFOLK with his marshal's staff, Duke of nose; all that stand about him are under the line, SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standthey need no other penance: that fire-drake did ing-bowls for the christening-gifts; then four I hit three times on the head, and three times
Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the was his nose discharged against me; he stands
DUCHESS OF NORFOLK, godmother, bearing there, like a mortar-piece, to blow us. There the child richly habited in a mantle, &c., was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him,
train borne by a Lady; then follows the that railed upon me till her pinked porringer fell off
MARCHIONESS DORSET, the other godmother,
and Ladies. her head, for kindling such a combustion in the
troop pass once about the state. I missed the meteor once, and hit that
stage, and GARTER speaks. woman; who cried out 'Clubs !' when I might Gart. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, see from far some forty truncheoners draw to her send prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to succour, which were the hope o' the Strand, the high and mighty princess of England, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made Elizabeth! good my place: at length they came to the broomstaff to me; I defied 'em still : when suddenly a
Flourish. Enter King and Guard. file of boys behind 'em, loose shot, delivered such Cran. [Kneeling] And to your royal grace, a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine
and the good queen, honour in, and let 'em win the work: the devil My noble partners, and myself, thus pray: was amongst 'em, I think, surely.
All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady, Port. These are the youths that thunder at a Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy, playhouse, and fight for bitten apples; that no May hourly fall upon ye! audience, but the tribulation of Tower-hill, or the King. Thank you, good lord archbishop: limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able What is her name? to endure. I have some of 'em in Limbo Patrum, Cran.
Elizabeth. and there they are like to dance these three days; King.
Stand up, lord. besides the running banquet of two beadles that
[The King kisses the child. is to come.
70 With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee!
Into whose hand I give thy life.
Amen. Cham. Mercy o' me, what a multitude are King. My noble gossips, ye have been too here !
I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady,
To all the plains about him: our children's childWhen she has so much English. Cran,
Let me speak, sir, Shall see this, and bless heaven. For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter King
Thou speakest wonders. Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth. Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of Eng. This royal infant-heaven still move about her! land, Though in her cradle, yet now promises
An aged princess; many days shall see her, Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings, 20 And yet no day without a deed to crown it. 59 Which time shall bring to ripeness: she shall be- Would I had known no inore! but she must die, But few now living can behold that goodness- She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin, A pattern to all princes living with her,
A most unspotted lily shall she pass And all that shall succeed: Saba was never To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
King. O lord archbishop, Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces, Thou hast made me now a man! never, before That mould up such a mighty piece as this is, This happy child, did I get any thing: With all the virtues that attend the good, This oracle of comfort has so pleased me, Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse That when I am in heaven I shall desire her,
To see what this child does, and praise my Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her: 30 Maker. She shall be loved and fear'd: her own shall I thank ye all. To you, my good lord mayor, 70 bless her;
And your good brethren, I am much beholding; Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
I have received much honour by your presence, And hang their heads with sorrow: good grows And ye shall find me thankful.
Lead the way, with her:
lords: In her days every man shall eat in safety, Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing
'Tis ten to one this play can never please As great in admiration as herself;
All that are here: some come to take their ease, So shall she leave her blessedness to one,
And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear, When heaven shall call her from this cloud of We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis darkness,
clear, Who from the sacred ashes of her honour
They'll say 'tis naught: others, to hear the city Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was, Abused extremely, and to cry ‘That's witty!' And so stand fix'd: peace, plenty, love, truth, which we have not done neither: that, I fear, terror,
All the expected good we're like to hear That were the servants to this chosen infant, For this play at this time, is only in Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him:50 The merciful construction of good women; Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, For such a one we show'd 'em : if they smile, His honour and the greatness of his name And say 'twill do, I know, within a while Shall be, and make new nations: he shall flourish, All the best inen are ours; for 'tis ill hap, And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap.
ACT I. IN Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of
Scene I. Troy. Before Priam's palace. Greece The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,
Enter Troilus armed, and PANDARUS. Have to the port of Athens sent their ships, Fraught with the ministers and instruments
Tro. Call here my varlet ; I'll unarm again: Of cruel war: sixty and nine, that wore
Why should I war without the walls of Troy, Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay That find such cruel battle here within ? Put forth toward Phrygia ; and their vow is Each Trojan that is master of his heart, made
Let him to field ; Troilus, alas! hath none. To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures Pan. Will this gear ne'er be mended ? The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,
Tro. The Greeks are strong and skilful to With wanton Paris sleeps; and that's the quarrel. their strength, To Tenedos they come;
Fierce to their skill and to their fierceness valiant; And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge But I am weaker than a woman's tear, Their warlike fraughtage : on Dardan Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, plains
Less valiant than the virgin in the night The fresh and yet un bruised Greeks do pitch And skilless as unpractised infancy. Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city, Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien, for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. And Antenorides, with massy staples
He that will have a cake out of the wheat must And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
needs tarry the grinding: Sperr up the sons of Troy.
Tro. Have I not tarried? Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,
the bolting Sets all on hazard: and hither am I come
Tro. Have I not tarried? A prologue arm’d, but not in confidence
Pan. Ay, the bolting, but you must tarry the Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited
leavening. In like conditions as our argument,
Tro. Still have I tarried. To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
Pan. Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those the word 'hereafter' the kneading, the making of broils,
the cake, the heating of the oven and the baking; Beginning in the middle, starting thence away nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may To what may be digested in a play.
chance to burn your lips. Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are: 30 Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war. Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do.