Come, you and I must walk a turn together;
I have news to tell you: Come, come, give me your
hand.

Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,
And am right sorry to repeat what follows:
I have, and most unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord,
Grievous complaints of you: which, being consider'd,
Have mov'd us and our council, that you shall
This morning come before us; where, I know,
You cannot with such freedom purge yourself,
But that, till further trial, in those charges
Which will require your answer, you must take
Your patience to you, and be well contented
To make your house our Tower: You a brother
of us, 9)

It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
Would come against you.

Cran.
I humbly thank your highness;
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most throughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff
And corn shall fly asunder: for, I know,
There's none stands under more calumnious tongues,
Than I myself, poor man.
K. Hen.
Stand up, good Canterbury;
Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted
In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand up;
Pr'ythee, let's walk, Now, by my holy-dame,
What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd
You would have given me your petition, that
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you
Without indurance, 10) further.
Cran.

Most dread liege,

The good I stand on is my truth, and honesty;
If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies,
Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not, '')
Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing
What can be said against me.
K. Hen.
Know you not how
Your state stands i'the world, with the whole world?
Your enemies

Are many, and not small; their practices

Must bear the same proportion: and not ever 12)
The justice and the truth o'the question carries
The due o'the verdict with it: At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To swear against you? such things have been done.
You are potently oppos'd; and with a malice
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck, 13)
I mean, in perjur'd witness, than your master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he liv'd
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.
Cran.
God, and your majesty,
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me!

So.

[Exit BUTTS.

Cran.
Butts. This is a piece of malice. I am glad,
I came this way so happily: The king
Shall understand it presently.
Cran. [Aside.]
"Tis Butts,
The king's physician; as he past along,
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For certain,
This is of purpose lay'd, by some that hate me,
(God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice,)
To quench mine honour: they would shame to
make me

Wait else at door; a fellow counsellor,
Among boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their plea-

sures

Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
Enter at a Window above, 14) the KING and BUTTS.
Butts. I'll show your grace the strangest sight,
K. Hen.
What's that, Butts?
Butts. I think, your highness saw this many a day.
K. Hen. Body o'me, where is it?

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. 21)

Sur.

'Tis 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. 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 seat.
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 aim of his honour; and, to strengthen
That holy duty, out of dear respect,
His royal self in judgment comes to hear
That cause betwixt her and this great offender.
K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden commend-
ations,

Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence;
They are too thin and base 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'st me for, I am sure,
Thou 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. 22)
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 commission
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.
Chan.
Thus far,
My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace
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 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 Can-
terbury,

I have a suit which you must not deny me;
That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism,
You must be godfather, 23) 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; 4) 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.

[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 me a dozen crab-tree-staves, and strong ones; 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 cannons,) 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? 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.

Port.

You did nothing, sir. Man. I am not Samson, nor sir Guy, nor Colbrand, 27) 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 cuckold-maker, 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?

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? 28) or have we some strange Indian with the great tool

come to court, the women so besiege us? 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.

Man. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his face, 29) for, o'my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now reign in's nose; all that stand about him are under the line, they need no other penance: The fire-drake 30) did I hit three

times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged against me; he stands there, like a mortarpiece 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, 31) for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the meteor 32) once, and hit that woman, who cried out clubs! 33) 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, 34) delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let them win the work: 35) The devil was amongst them, I think, surely.

Port. These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but the Tribulation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of Limehouse, 3) their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of them in Limbo Patrum, 37) and there they are like to dance these three days; besides the running banquet of two beadles, 38) 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 are coming, As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters, These lazy knaves? Ye have made a fine hand, fellows.

There's a trim rabble let in: Are all these
Your faithful friends o'the suburbs? We shall have
Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
When they pass back from the christening.
Port.
An't please your honour
We are but men; and what so many may do,
Not being torn a pieces, we have done:
An army cannot rule them.

Cham.

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 lazy knaves;
And here ye lie baiting of bumbards, 39) 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 princes.

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. 40) [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The Palace. 41)

Enter Trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor, Garter, CRANMER, Duke of NORFOLK, with his marshall's staff, Duke of SUFFOLK,

two Noblemen bearing great standing bowls 42) for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of NORFOLK, 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, 43) send prosperous life, long, and ever happy to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth!

Flourish. Enter KING, and Train.

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

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?
Cran.
K. Hen.

Elizabeth.

Stand up, lord.
[The KING kisses the Child.
With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee!
Into whose hands I give thy life.
Cran.
Amen.
K. Hen. My noble gossips, ye have been too pro-
digal:

I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady,
When she has so much English.
Cran.

Let me speak, sir,

For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
Let none think flattery, for they'll find them truth.
This royal infant, (heaven still move about her!)
Though in her cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness: She shall be
(But few now living can behold that goodness,)
A pattern to all princes living with her,
And all that shall succeed; Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom, and fair virtue,
Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces,
That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
With all the virtues that attend the good,
Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse her,
Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:
She shall be lov'd and fear'd: Her own shall bless her:
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
And hang their heads with sorrow:
Good grows

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: 44) But as
when

The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
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 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 sun of heaven shall shine,
His honour, and the greatness of his name