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Enter Guard.
Gran. For me?
Must I go

like a traitor then?
Gard. Receive him,
And see him safe i'th' Tower.

Cran. Stay, good my Lords,
I have a little yet to say.' Look there, Lords;
By virtue of that ring, I take my

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. 'Tis no counterfeit.

Suf. 'Tis his right ring, by Heav'n. I told ye all, When we first put this dang'rous stone a-rolling, Twould fall upon ourselves.

Nor. D’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.

Crom. 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 burns ye: now have at ye!


Enter King, frowning on them; takes his feat. Gard. Dread Sov'reign, how much are we bound to In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince; [Heav'n Not only good and wife, but most religious? One that in all obedience makes the church The chief aini of his honour; and to strengthen That holy duty, out of dear refpect, His royal self in judgment comes to hear The cause betwixt her and this

great offender. King. You're ever good at sudden commendations, Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not


To hear fuch fatt'ries now, and in my presence
They are too thin and bafe 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 thou tak ft me for, I'm sure
Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody.
Good man, fit down. Now let me see the proudest

[To Cran.

Bid ye

He that dares moft, but wag his finger at thee,
By all that's holy, he had better ftarve,
Than but once think this place becomes thee not.

Sur. May't please your Grace

King. No, Sir, it does not please me.
I thought I had had men of fome 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 lowsy foot-boy
Ať chamber-door, and one as great as you are?
Why, what a shame was this? did my commission

so far forget yourselves? I gave ye Pow'r, as he was a counsellor, to try him, Not as a groom. There's some of

ye, I fee, More out of malice than integrity, Would


him to the utmost, had ye means; Which


shall never have while I do live.
Cham. My moft dread Sovereign, may it like your

To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'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'm sure in me.

King. 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, fo to him.
Make me no more ado, but all embrace him:
Be friends for shame, my Lords. My Lord of Canterbury,
I have a fuit which you must not deny me.
There is a fair young maid, that yet wants baptism:
Vol. V.


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?
King. Come, come, my Lord, you'd spare your spoons:

you shall have
Two noble partners with you; the old Dutchess
Of Norfolk, and the Lady Marquis Dorset-
Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge you
Embrace and love this man.

Gard. With a true heart
And brother's love I do it.

Cran. And let Heaven
Witness how dear I hold this confirmation.

King. Good man, those joyful tears shew thy true heart:
The common voice, I fee, is verify'd
Of thee, which says thus: Do my Lord of Canterbury
But one shrewd turn, and he's your friend for ever.
Come, Lords, we trifle time away: I long
To have this young one made a Chriftian.
As I have made ye one, Lords, one remain:
So I grow stronger, you more honour gain. [Exeunt.

SCENE VII. The palace-yard. Noise and tumult. Enter Porter and his Man. Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals; do you take the court for Paris Garden? ye rude Naves, leave your

gaping Within. Good Mr. Porter, I belong to th' larder.

Port. Belong to the gallows, and be bang'd, ye rogue; is this a place to roar in? fetch me a dozen crab-tree Itaves, 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 impoflible (Unless we swept them from the door with cannons) Io scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep On May-day morning; which will never be: We may as well push against Paul's, as ftir 'em. Port. How got they in, and be hang'd?


Man. Alas, I know not; how gets the tide in?
As much as one found cudgel of four foot
(You see the poor remainder) could diftribute.
I made no spare, Sir.

Port. You did nothing, Sir.

Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colebrand, to mow 'em down before me; but if í spar'd 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 shall be with you presently, good Mr. Puppy. Keep the door close, firrah. Man What would


have me do? Port. What should you do, but knock 'em down by the dozens? Is this Morefields to muster in? or have we some strange Indian with the great tool come to court, the women fo besiege us? Bless me! what a fry of fornication is at the door? on my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and

all together. Man. The spoons will be the bigger, Sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brafier by his face; for, o' my conscience, twenty of the dogdays now reign in's nofe; all that ftand 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 nofe difcharged against me;

he stands there like a mortar-piece to blow us up: There was a haberdasher's wife of fmall wit near him, that rail'd 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 cry'd out, Clubs! when I might see from far fome forty truncheoneers draw to her succour; 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 still; when suddenly a file of boys behind 'em deliver'd such a shower of pebbles, loose shot, that 'I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let 'em win the work. The devil was amongst 'em, I think, surely. Port. These are the youths that thunder at a play


Gg. 2

house, 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.
Cham. Mercy o' me! what a multitude are here?
They grow ftill too; from all parts they are coming,
As if we kept a fair. Where are these porters?
These lazy knaves? ye've made a fine hand, fellows;
There's a trim rabble let in; are all these
Your faithful friends o'th' fuburbs? we shall have
Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
When they pass back from th' chrift'ning?

Port. Please your Honour,
We are but men; and what so many may do,
Not being torn in pieces, we have done:
An army.cannot rule 'em.

Cham. As I live,
If the King blame me for't, I'll lay you all
By th' heels, and suddenly; and on your heads
Clap round fines for neglect: y'are lazy knaves :
And here ye lie baiting of bumbards, when
Ye should do service. Hark, the trumpets found;
Th' 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 Princefs!
Man. You great fellow, stand close up, or I'll make

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your head ake.

Port. You i' th' camblet, get up o' th' rail, I'll peck you o'er the pales else.

[Excunt. SCENE VIII. Changes to the palace. Enter trumpets founding; then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor,

Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with his Marlal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing great fanding bowls for the christening-gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Dutchess of


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