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If the king blame me for't, I'll lay ye all
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 camlet, get up o'the rail ; I'll pick you o'er the pales else.
The Palace. 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 for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of NORFOLK, godmother, beuring the child richly habited in a mantle, fc. 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!
Flourish. Enter King, and Train.
the good queen,
K. Hen. Thank you, good lord archbishop:
Elizabeth. K. Hen.
[The King kisses the child. With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee ! Into whose hand I give thy life. Cran.
Let me speak, sir,
Which time shall bring to ripeness : She shall be
up such a mighty piece as this is,
her; Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow: Good grous
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 neighbours: God shall be truly known; and those about her From her shall read the perfect ways of honour, 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 phænix, 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 bonour,
Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was,
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 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 receiv'd much honour by your presence, And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way,