D. Keep. My lord archbishop; I shall both find your lordship jodge and juror, And bas done half an hour, to know your plea- But reverence to your calling makes me mo sures. Chan. Let him come in. D. Keep. Your grace may enter now. [CRANMER approaches the Council-table. Chan. My good lord archbishop, I am very sorry To sit here at this present, and behold of our flesh, few are angels: out of which And want of wisdom, you, that best should Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little, (For so we are inform'd,) with new opinions, Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords: for those, that tame wild horses, Pace them not in their hands to make them gentle; dest. Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary, That's the plain truth; your painted gloss dis covers, To men that understand you, words and weak. ness. Crom. My lord of Winchester, you are a lit tle, By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble Gar. Good master secretary, I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst Crom. Why, my lord? Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer Gar. Not sound, I say. Crom. 'Would you were half so honest! Men's prayers then would seek you, not their Gar. I shall remember this bold language. But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and Remember your bold life too. Both of my life and office, I have labour'd, Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lord ships, That in this case of justice, my accusers, By virtue of that ring, I take my cause Be what they will, may stand forth face to face, To a most noble judge, the king my master. And freely urge against me. Suf. Nay, my lord, That cannot be; you are a counsellor, And by that virtue, no man dare accuse you. Gur. My lord, because we have business of more moment, We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness' pleasure, But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure, He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee: By all that's holy, he had better starve, Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long SCENE III.-The Palace Yard. Noise 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 slaves, leave your gaping. + [Within.] Good master porter, I belong to the larder. Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, you rogue: Is this a place to roar in?-Fetch Than but once think his place becomes thee me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones; not. Why, what a shame was this? Did my com mission Bid ye so 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 bim to the utmost, had ye mean; Which ye shall never have while I live. Chan. Thus far, these are but switches to them.-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 impossible (Unless we sweep them from the door with cannous,) To scatter them, as 'tis to make them sleep them. Port. How got they in, and be hang'd? Port. You did nothing, Sir. Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, t to mow them down before me: either young or old, he or she, cuckold or but if I spared any, that had a head to hit, pur-cuckold-maker, let me never hope to see a chine again; and that I would not for a cow, My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace To let my tongue excuse all. What was pos'd 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 I have a suit which you must not deny me; You must be godfather, and answer for her. Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory In such an honour; how may I deserve it, 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 Dorset; Will these please you? Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you, Embrace, and love this man. God save her. [Within.] Do you hear, master Porter ? Port. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.-Keep the door close, Sirrah. Man. What would you have me do? Port. What should you do, but knock them down by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster 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 forniOn my Christian conscience, cation is at door! this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all toge ther. Man. The spoons will be the bigger, Sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he science, twenty of the dog-days now reign in's should be a brazier by his face, for o'my connose; all that stand about bim, 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 against me; he stands there like a mortar-piece, to blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that rail'd upon me till her pink porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I The bear garden on the Bank-side. + Roaring. Guy of Warwick, vanquished Colbrand the Danish Pink'd cap. It was an ancient custom for sponsors to present giant. spoons to their god-children. Flourish. Enter KING, and Train. Cran. [Kneeling.] And to your royal grace, and the good queen, miss'd the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cried out, clubs! when I might see from far some forty truncheoneers draw to her succour, which were the hope of the Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to the broomstaff with me, I defied them still; when suddenly a file of boys behind them, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw nine honour in, and let them win the work: The devil is amongst them, I think, surely. Port. These are the youths that thunder at a play-house, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but the Tribulation of lower-bill, or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of them in Limbo Putrum, 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 bere ! They grow still too, from all parts they coming, are As if we kept a fair here ! Where are these porters, My noble partners and myself thus pray :-- K. Hen, Thank you, good lerd archbishop. Crun. Elizabeth. K. Hen. Stand up, lord. [The KING kisses the child. With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee! Into whose hands I give thy life. K. Hen. My noble gossips, ye have been too I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady, For heaven now bids me; and the words I These lazy knaves ?-Ye have made a fine hand, Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings, Which time shall bring to ripeness: She shall And by those claim their greatness, not by shall this peace sleep with her: But as was, Enter Trumpets, sounding: then two Aldermen, Lord MAYOR, GARTER, CRANMER, Duke of NORFOLK, with his Marshal's Staff, Duke of SUFFOLK, tuo Noblemen Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour, bearing great standing-bowls for the christ- | Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she ening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of NonFOLK, godmother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, &c. 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, end prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth!.. The brazier. + Place of confinement. 1 A desert of whipping. Black leather vessels to hold beer. Pitch. At Greenwich. These are the actual words used at Elizabeth's christening. And so stand fix'd: Peace, plenty, love, truth, That were the servants to this chosen infant, ches 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 ber. K. Hen. O lord archbishop, Thou hast made me now a man; never, before To see what this child does, and praise my Maker. She will be sick else. This day, no man think He has business at his house; for all shall stay, This little one shall make it holiday. [Exeunt. EPILOGUE.. 'Tis ten to one, this play can never please All that are here: Some 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 It is supposed that the epilogue and prologo to this play were both written by Ben Jonson. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. THE title of this play was probably suggested (like Twelfth Night, and The Winter's Tale,) by the time at which it was first performed; viz. at Midsummer :---thus it would be announced as " A Dream for the Entertainment of a Midsummer Night." No other ground can be assigned for the name which our author has given to it; since the action is distinctly pointed out as occurring on the night preceding May-day. The piece was written in 1392; and, according to Stevens, might have been suggested by the Knight's Tale in Chancer, or, as Capell supposes, Shakspeare may have taken the idea of his fairies from Drayton's fantastical poem, called Nymphidia, or, The Court of Fairy. Mason, however, denies that our poet made use of the materials which Shakspeare had rendered so popular; and asserts (in opposition to Johuson) that there is no analogy or resemblance between the fairies of the one, and the fairies of the other. The same critics are also at issue upon the general merits of this singular play. Johnson declares that "all the parts, in their various modes, are well written." Malone, that the principal personages are insignificant---the fable meagre and uninteresting. Hippolyta, the Amazon, is undistinguished from any other female; and the solicitudes of Hermia and Demetrius, of Lysander and Helena, are childish and frivolous. Theseus, the companion of Hercules, is not engaged in any adventure worthy his rank and reputation: "he goes out a Maying; meets the lovers in perplexity, and makes no effort to promote their happiness; but when supernatural events have reconciled them, he joins their company, and concludes the entertainment by uttering some miserable puns, at an interlude represented by clowns." These faults are, however, almost wholly redeemed, by the glowing fervour, and varied imagination, which Shakspeare has displayed in the poetry; by the rich characteristic humour (free from the taint of grossness) which enlivens the blunt-witted devices of his theatrical tailors and cobblers; and by the admirable satire which he has passed on those self-conceited actors, who (not unlike some modern “stars”) would monopolize the favours of the public, trample upon every competitor, and "bear the palm alone.” Boitom was perhaps the leading tragedian of some rival house, and on that account is honoured with an ass's head. THESEUS, Duke of Athens. DRAMATIS PERSONE. HELENA, in love with Demetrius LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, in love with Hermia. TITANIA, Queen of the Fairies. PHILOSTRATE, Master of the Revels to The- PEASELOSSOM, |