D. Keep. Your grace must wait till you be The whole realm, by your teaching, and your call'd for.

I shall both find your lordship judge and juror, You are so merciful: I see your end, Tis my undoing: Love, and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition; Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast none away. That I shall clear myself, Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience I make as little doubt, as you do conscience, In doing daily wrongs I could say more, Who waits there 7 But reverence to your calling makes me modest D. Keep. Without, my noble lorda 7 Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary, Gar. Yes. That's the plain truth; your painted glo diaMy lord archbishop ;;

And has done half an hour, to know your plea. To men that understand you, words and wink

me!

Crom. My lord of Winchester, you are a little, And think with wagging of your tongue to win
By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble,
However fanity, yet should find respect
For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty,
To load a falling mau.

Gar

Good master secretary,
I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
Of all this table, say so.

Столь
Why, my lord 7
Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer
Of this new sect? ye are not sound.
Crom

Not sound
Gar. Not sound, I say.
Crom. 'Would you were half so honest;
Men's prayers then would seek you, not their
fears.

Gar. I shall remember this bold Innguage.
Crom

Remember your bold life too.
Chan

Fortear, for shame, my lords.
Gar.

Crom

Do.
This is too much;

I have done.

And I. Chan. Then thus for you, my lord,-It stands agreed,

I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner;
There to remain, till the king's further pleasure
Be known onto as: Are you all agreed, lords?
All. We are.
Cran
Is there no other way of mercy,
But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?
Gar.
What other
Would you expect? You are strangely trouble.

Let some of the guard be ready there.

Enter Guard.

Cran.

Must I go like a traitor thither ?
Gar

And see him safe i' the Tower.
Cran

For me?

Receive him,

Stay, good my lords,
I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords,
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it
To a most noble judge, the king my master.
Cham. This is the king's ring.
Sur.
Tie no counterfeit.
Suf Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told ye
all,

When we first put this dangerous stone a rolling,
Twould fall upon ourselves.
Nor
Do you think, my lords,
The king will suffer but the little finger
Of this man to be vex'd?
Cham

'Tis now too certain:
How much more is his life in value with him.
Would I were fairly out on't
Crois

My mind gave me,
In seeking tales, and informations,
Against this man, (whose honesty the devil
And his disciples only envy at)

Ye blew the fire that burus ye: Now have at ye.
Enter the King, frowning on them; takes his

seal.

Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound,
to heaven

In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;
Not only good and wise, but most religious:
One that, in all obedience, makes the church
The chief alm of his honour; and, to strengthen
That holy doty, out of dar respect,
His royal self in Judgment comes to hear
The cause betwixt her and this great offender.
K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden com-
mendations,

But whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure,
Thon hast a cruel nature, and a bloody.-
Good man, To Cranmer.] sit down. Now let
me see the proudest

He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:
By all that's holy, he had better starve,
Than but once think his place becomes thee not.
Sur. May it please your grace,-

K. Hen.

No, sir, it does not please me. I had thought, I had had men of some understanding

And wisdom of my council; but I find none.
Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
This good man, (few of you deserve that title,)
This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy
At chamber door? and one as great as you are?
Why, what a shame was this! Did my com-
mission

Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
Power 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 mean;
Which ye shall never have, while I live.
My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace
Thus far,
To let my tongue excuse all. What was pur-
pos'd

Chan

Concerning his imprisonment, was rather
(If there be faith in men) meant for his trial,
And fair purgation to the world, than malice;
I am sure, in me.

K. Hen. Well, well, my lords, respect him;
Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him, If a prince
May be beholden to a subject, I

Am, for his love and service, so 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;
That is, a fair young maid that yet wants bap-

fism,

You must be godfather, and answer for her.
Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may
In such an honour; how may I deserye it,
glory
That am a poor and humble subject to you?
K. Hen. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare
your spoons; you shall have

Two noble partners with you; the old duchess
of Norfolk,

And lady marquis Doreet: Will these please you?
Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you,
Erabrace, and love this man.
Gar

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, you more honour gain.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III. The Palace Yard.
Noize and tumult within. Enter Porter and
hia Man.

Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals;
Do you take the court for Paris-garden 7 ye rude

Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence:sinves leave your gaping.
They are too thin and bere to hisle offences.

[Within ] Good master porter, 1 belong to the

To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel, Harder

Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, Your faithful friends o' the suburbs? We shall you rogue: Is this a place to roar in ?-Fetch have me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones; Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies, these are but switches to them.-1 scratch When they pass back from the christening. your heads: You must be seeing christenings Port An't please your honour Do you look for ale and cakes here, you rude We are but men; and what so many may do, Not being torn a pieces, we have done: An army cannot rule them. Cham

rascals 7

Man. Pray, sir, be patient; 'tis as much impossible

(Unless we sweep them from the door with can-
nons,)

To scatter them, as 'tis to make them sleep
On May-day morning; which will never be:
We may as well push against Paul's, as stir

them.

Port. How got they in, and be hang'd 7
Man. Alas, I know not; How gets the tide in
As much as one sound cudgel of four foot
(You see the poor remainder) could distribute,
I made no spare, sir.
You did nothing, sir.

7

Port Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Gay, nor Col. brand, to mow them down before me: but, if I spared any, that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or she, cuckold, or cuckoldmaker, let me never hope to see a chine again; and that I would not for a cow, God save her. [Within.]Do you hear, master Porter 7

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 lary

knaves;

And here ye lie baiting of bombards, 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 ake.

Port. You i the camblet, get up o' the rail;
I'll pick you o'er the pales else. [Exeunt

SCENE IV. The Palace.

Port. I shall be with you presently, good mas- Enter Trumpets, sounding; Uten two Alderter puppy-Keep the door close, sirrah. Man. What would you have me do 7 Port What should you do, but knock them down by the dozens ? Is this Moorfields to mus ter in 7 or have we some strange Indian with the great tool come to court, the women so besiege us 7 Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together.

men, Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk, with his Marshal staff, Duke of Suffolk, to Noblemen bearing great standingbowls for the christening gift; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the Child richly habited in a mantle, &e. Train borne by a Lady; then follows the Marchioness of Dorset, the other godmother, and L dies. The Troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks.

Flourish. Enter King, and Train.

Cran Kneeling.] And to your royal grace, and the good Queen,

Man. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his face, for, o' my conscience, Gar. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send twenty of the dog-days now reign in's nose: all prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the that stand about him are under the line, they high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth 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. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that railed upon me till her pink'd porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cried out, cluba! when I might see from far some forty truncheoneers draw to her succour, which were the hope of the Strand, where she was quarter'd. They fell on; I made Stand up, lord. — good my place; at length they came to the [The King kisses the Child. broomstaff with me, I defied them still: when With this kiss take my blessing: God protect suddenly a file of boys behind them, loose shot,| delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let them win the work. The devil was amongst them, I think, surely.

Port. These are the yonths 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 coming,

are

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 7
Cran
Elizabeth
K. Hen.

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, er,
For heaven now bids me; and the words I utta
Let none think flattery, for they'll find them
truth.

This royal infant, (heaven still move about her!)
Though in her craille, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness: She shall de
(But few now living can behold that goodnes)
A pattern to all princes living with her,
And all that shall succeed: Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom, and fair virtue,

As if we kept a fair here! Where are these por-Than this pure soul shall be all princely grace

ters,

These lazy knaves 7-Ye have made a fine hand,

fellows

There's a trim rabble let in: Are all these

That mould up snch a mighty piece as this ia,
With all the virtues that attend the good,
Shall still be donbled on her truth shall nurse

her,

The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
Her ashes new create another heir,
As great in admiration as herself:

So whall she leave her blessedness to one,

as

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 pleas'd me,
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 honour 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

(When beaven shall call her from this cloud of He has business at his house; for all shall stay,

darkness,)

Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour,
Shall star like rise, as great in fame as she was,
And so stand fix'd: 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 snn of heaven shall shine,
His honour and the greatness of his name
Shall be, and make new nations: He shall
rish,

And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
To all the plains about him-Our children's
children

This little one shall make it holiday. [Exeunt.
EPILOGUE.

Tis ten to one this play can never please
All that are here: Sonie come to take their ease,
And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis
clear,

They'll say, 'tis naught: others, to hear the city
flou-Abus'd extremely, and to cry,—that's witty!
Which we have not done neither that, I fear
All the expected good we are like to hear
For this play at this time, is only in
The merciful construction of good women;
For such a one we show'd them: If they smile,
And say, 'twill do, I know, within a while
All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
If they hold, when their ladies bid them clap.

Shall see this, and blese heaven ]
K. Hen.
Thou speakest wonders.
Cran She shall be, to the happiness of England,
An aged princess; many days shall see her,

Sets all on hazard-And hither am I come
A prologue arm'd, but not in confidence
Of author's pen, or actor's voice, but suited
In like conditions as our argument,-
To tell you, tair beholders, that our play
Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,
'Ginning in the middle starting thence away
To what may be digested in a play.

Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are;
Now good, or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.

SCENE I. Troy.

-

ACT 1

Before Priam's Palace.

Enter Troilus armed, and Pandarus
Tro. Call here my varlet, I'll unarm again:
Why should I war without the walls of Troy,
That fud such cruel battle here within?
Each Trojan, that is master of his heart,
Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath uone.
Pan. Will this geer ne'er be mended ?

Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their
strength,

Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness va-
liant;

But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance;
Less valiant than the virgin in the might,
And skill-less as unpractis'd infancy.

Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He that will have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding.

Tro. Have I not tarried?

Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.

Tro. Have I not tarried?

Hard as the palm of ploughman! This, thou
tell'st me,

As true thou tell'st me, when I say, I love her;
Bet, saying thus, instead of oil and baina,
Thou lay 'st in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it

Pan. 1 spak no more than truth.

Tro. Thon dost not speak so much.

Pan. 'Faith, I'll not metele in Let her he as she is; if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.

Tro Good Pandarna! How now, Paudaras 7 Pan. I have had my labour for my travel; thought on of her, and ill thought on of you: gone between and between, but snall the cas for my labour.

Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus! what with me?

Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore, she's not so fair as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday But what care I care not, an she were a black-a-moct; 'tis all one to me Tro. Say 1, she is not fair!

Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my part, I'll meddle per make no more in the matter.

Tro. Pandarus,

Pan. Not I.

Tro. Sweet Pandarns,

Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there an end

[Exit Paudarns. An Alarum. Tro. Pence, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds!

Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,

Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the When with your blood you daily paint ber thus leavening.

Tro. Still have I tarried.
Pan. Ay, to the leavening: but here's yet in
the word-hereafter, the kneading, the making
of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the
baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or
you may chance to burn your lips.

Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
Doth lesser blench at sotjerance than I do.
At Priam's royal table do I sit;

I cannot fight upon this argum/ot;
It is too starv'd a subject for my sword.
But Pandarus-O Gols, how do you plague me!
I caunot come to Cressid, but by Pander;
And he's astetchy to be would to woo,
As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Paudar, and what we 7
Her bed is India; there she lies, a peart:
Between our liom, and where the resides,

And when tair Cressid comes into my thought,-Let it be call'd the wild and wantering food;
So, traitor !-when she comes !-When is she
thence ?

Pan. Well, she look'd yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else.

Tro. I was abont to tell thee,-When my heart, As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain; Lest Hector, or my father should perceive me, I have, (as when the sun doth light a storm,) Bury'd this sigh in wrinkle of a smile: But sorrow, that is couch'd in secming gladness, Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. Pan. Au her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's, (well, go to,) there were no more comparison between the women,-But, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as, they term it, praise her,-But I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit;

but

Tro. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarns,-
When 1 do tell thee, There my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep
They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad
In Cressid's love: Thon answercst, She is fair;
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart

Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,
Handlest in thy discourse ;-0, that her hand!
In whose comparison all whites are ink,
Writing their own reproach; To whose soft

seizure

The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense

Ourself the merchant; and this sailing Padar,
Our doubtful hope, our convey, and our back.

Alarum. Enter Encas

Ene. How now, Prince Troitaa? wherefore not afield ?

Tro. Because not there; This woman's 20-
swer sorts,

For womanish it is to be from thence.
What news, Eneas, from the field to day?

ne. That Paris is returned home, and hurt
Tro. By whom, Æneas!
Ane.
Troilus, by Menelans
Tro. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn;
(Alarum
Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn-
Ene. Hark! what good sport is out of to

to-day!

Tro. Better at home, if would I might, were may

But, to the sport abroad;-Are you bound thi ther 7

Ene. In all swift haste.

Tro.

Come, go we then together. [Erect
SCENE IL The same. A Street.
Enter Cressida and Alexander.

Cres. Who were those went by 7
Ales.

Queen Hecuba, and Helen.
Crea. And whither go they?

Alex.

Up to the eastern tower, Whose height commands as subject all the vale,