Of this new fect? ye are not found. Crom. Not found? Gard. Not found, I fay, Grom. Would you were half fo honeft! Mens' prayers then would seek you, not their fears, Grom. Do. Remember your bold life too. Cham. This is too much; Forbear for fhame, my Lords. Gard. I've done. Grom. And I. Cham. Then thus for you, my Lord; it ftands agreed, I take it, by all voices, that forthwith You be convey'd to th' Tower a prifoner; There to remain, till the King's further pleasure Be known unto us. All. We are. Are you all agreed, Lords? Cran. Is there no other way of mercy, But I must needs to th' Tower, my Lords? Gard. What other Would you expect? you're strangely troublesome ; Cran. For me? Enter Guard. Muft I go like a traitor then? Gard. Receive him, And fee him fafe i' th' Tower. I have a little yet to fay. Look there, Lords; Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit. Suf. 'Tis his right ring, by Heav'n. I told ye all, When we first put this dang'rous ftone a-rowling, 'T would fall upon ourselves. Nor. D' you think, my Lords, Cham. 'Tis now too certain. How much more is his life in value with him? ̧ Grom. My mind gave me, 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 fuch a prince; [Heav'n Not only good and wife, but moft religious? One that in all obedience makes the church His royal felf in judgment comes to hear King No, Sir, it does not please me. I thought I had men of fome understanding Pow'r, as he was a counsellor, to try him, Would try him to the utmoit, had ye means; Cham. My molt dread Sovereign, may it like your Grace To let my tongue excufe all. What was purpos'd If there be faith in men, meant for his trial, King. Well, well, my Lords, respect him : Am, for his love and service, so to him. My Lord of CanterI have a fuit which you must not deny me. [bury, There is a fair young maid, that yet wants baptism; You must be godfather, and answer for her. Gran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory In fuch an honour; how may I deferve it, That am a poor and humble fubject to you? King. Come, come, my Lord, you'd spare your Two noble partners with you: the old Duchefs Gard. With a true heart And brother's love t do it. Gran. And let Heaven Witnefs how dear I hold this confirmation. King. Good man, thofe joyful tears fhews thy true The common voice, I fee, is verify'd [heart: of thee, which fays thus: Do my Lord of Canterbury But one fhrewd turn, and he's your friend for ever. Come, Lords, we trifle time away: I long To have this young one made a Christian. VOL. V. G g SCENE VII. The palace yard. Noife and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man▪ Port. You'll leave your noife anon, ye rafcals; do you take the court for Paris Garden? ye rude flaves, leave your gaping. Within. Good Mr Porter, I belong to th' larder. Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hang'd, ye rogue ; is this a place to roar in? fetch me a dozen crab-tree faves, and ftrong ones; thefe are but switches-To 'em. I'll fcratch your heads; you must be feeing christenings? Do you look for ale and cakes here, you rude rafcals? Man. Pray, Sir, be patient; 'tis as much impoffible (Unless we swept them from the door with cannons). To fcatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'ein fleep On May-day morning; which will never be. Man. Alas, I know not; how gets the tide in.? Port. You did nothing, Sir. Man, I am not Samfon, nor Sir Guy, nor Colebrand, to mow 'em down before me; but if I fpar'd any that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or fhe, cuckold or cuckold-maker, let me never hope to fee a chine again; and that I would not for a crow, God fave her. Within. Do you hear, Mr Porter? Port. I fhall be with you presently, good Mr Puppy. Keep the door clofe, firrah. Man. What would you have me do? Port. What fhould you do, but knock 'em down by the dozens? Is this Morefields to mufter in? or have we fome frange Indian with the great tool come to court, the women fo befiege us? Blefs me! what a fry of fornication is at the door? on my Christian con-fcience, this one christening will beget a thoufand; here: will be father, godfather, and all together. Man. The ipoons will be the bigger, Sir. There is a fellow fomewhat near the door, he fhould be a brafier by his face; for o' my confcience, twenty of the dog days now reign in's nofe; all that stand 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 ine; he stands there like a mortar-piece to blow us up. There was a haberdafher's wife of fmall wit near him, that rail'd upon me till her pink'd porringer fell off her head, for kindling fuch a combustion in the ftate. I mifs'd the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cry'd out, Clubs! when I might fee from far fome forty truncheoneers draw to her fuccour; which were the hope of the Strand, where fhe 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 ftill; when fuddenly a file of boys behind 'em deliver'd fuch a fhower of pibbles, loofe thot, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let 'em win the work: The devil was amongst 'em, I think, furely. Port. These are the youths that thunder at a playhoute, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience but the tribulation of Tower hill, or the limbs of Lime-houfe, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have fome of 'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are. like to dance thefe three days; befides 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? Thefe 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 fhall have We are but men; and what fo many may do, Cham. As I live, If the King blame me for't, I'll lay you all |