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 thefe 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 shall have
Great ftore of room, no doubt left for the ladies,
When they pass back from th' chriftening?
Port. Pleafe your honour,

We are but men; and what fo 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 ye all
By th' heels, and fuddenly; and on your heads
Clap round fines for neglect. 'are lazy knaves;
And here ye lie baiting of bumbards, (9) when
Ye fhould do fervice. Hark, the trumpets found;
Th'are come already from the chriftening.

Go break among the prefs, and find a way out
To let the troop pafs fairly; or I'll find

A Marfbalfea, fhall hold you play these two months.
Port, Make way for the Princefs.

Man. You great fellow, ftand close up, or I'll make your head ake.

Port. You i'th' camblet, get up o'th' rail; I'll pick you o'er the pales elfe.

[Exeunt.

(9) here ye lie baiting of bumbards,] A bumbard is an ale barrel; to bait bumbards is to tipple, to lie at the Spigot.

SCENE

SCENE VIII.

Changes to the Palace.

Enter Trumpets founding; then two Aldermen,, Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk, with bis Marshal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing great ftanding bowls for the chriftening gifts; then four noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Dutchefs of Norfolk, god-mother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, &c. Train borne by a lady: then follows the Marchioness of Dorset, the other god-mother, and ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks.

Gart. Heav'n, from thy endless goodness fend long life,

And ever happy, to the high and mighty
Princefs of England, fair Elizabeth!

Flourish. Enter King and Guard.

Cran. [Kneeling.] And to your royal Grace, and the good Queen,

My noble partners and myfelf thus pray;

All comfort, joy, in this moft gracious lady,
That heav'n e'er laid up to make parents happy,

May hourly fall upon ye !

King. Thank you, good Lord Arch-bishop: What is her name?

Cran. Elizabeth.

King. Stand up, Lord.

[The King kiffes the child.

With this kifs take my bleffing. God protect thee, Into whofe hand I give thy life.

Cran. Amen.

King. My noble goffips, ye have been too prodigal, I thank you heartily; fo fhall this lady,

When the has fo much English.

Cran. Let me fpeak, Sir;

For Heav'n now bids me, and the words I utter,

Let

Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth.
This royal infant, heav'n ftill move about her!
Though in her cradle, yet now promifes
Upon this land a thousand thousand bleffings,
Which time shall bring to ripenefs. She shall be,
(But few or none living can behold that goodness)
A pattern to all Princes living with her,

And all that fhall fucceed. Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue,
Than this bleft foul fhall be. All Princely graces,
That mould up fuch a mighty piece as this,
With all the virtues that attend the good,

Shall still be doubled on her. Truth fhall nurse her:
Holy and heav'nly thoughts ftill counsel her:

She thall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own fhall blefs her; Her foes fhake, like a field of beaten corn,

And hang their heads with forrow. Good grows with. her,

In her days, ev'ry man fhall eat in fafety,

Under his own vine, what he plants; and fing
The merry fongs of peace to all his neighbours.
God fhall be truly known, and those about her
From her shall read the perfect ways of honour,
And claim by those their greatness, not by blood.
[Nor fhall this peace fleep with her; (1) but as when
The bird of wonder dies, the maiden Phoenix,
Her afhes new-create another heir,

As

great

in admiration as herself;

So hall the leave her bleffedness to one,

(1) Nor fhall this peace fleep with her ;] Thefe lines, to the interruption by the King, feem to have been inferted at some revifal of the play after the acceffion of King James. If the paffage, included in crotchets, be left out, the fpeech of Cranmer proceeds in a regular tenour of prediction and continuity of fentiments; but by the interpofition of the new lines, he first celebrates Elizabeth's fucceffor, and then wishes he did not know that she was to die; first rejoices at the confequence, and then laments the caufe. Our author was at once politick and idle; he refolved to flatter James, but neglected to reduce the whole fpeech to propriety, or perhaps intended that the line inferted fhould be spoken in the action, and omitted in the publication, if any publication ever was in his thoughts. Mr. Theobald has made the fame observation,

When

When heav'n fhall call her from this cloud of dark

nefs,

Who from the facred afhes of her honour

Shall ftar-like rife, as great in fame as she was,

And fo ftand fix'd. Peace, Plenty, Love, Truth,
Terror,

That were the fervants to this chosen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him:
Where-ever the bright fun of heav'n fhall shine,
His honour and the greatnefs of his name

Shall be, and make new nations. He fhall flourish,
And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
To all the plains about him: childrens' children
Shall fee this, and bless heav'n.

King. Thou fpeakest wonders.]

Cran. She fhall be, to the happiness of England,
An aged Princefs; many days fhall fee her,
And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
'Would, I had known no more! but the muft die,
She muft, the Saints must have her; yet a Virgin,
A most unfpotted lily the fhall pafs

To th' ground, and all the world fhall mourn her.
King. O Lord Arch-bishop,

Thou it made me now a man; never, before
This happy child, did I get any thing.
This oracle of comfort has fo pleas'd me,
That when I am in heav'n,' I shall defire

To fee what this child does, and praise my Maker.
I thank ye all-To you, my good Lord Mayor,
And your good brethren, (2) I am much beholden:
I have

(2) And you, good Brethren,] But the Aldermen never were called Brethren to the King. The top of the nobility are but Coufins and Counsellors. Dr. Thirlby, therefore, rightly advised;

And your good Brethren

i. e. the Lord Mayor's Brethren: which is properly their Style, THEOBALD.

The play of Henry the eighth is one of those which still keeps poffeffion of the ftage, by the fplendour of its pageantry. The coronation about forty years ago drew the people together in

I have receiv'd much honour by your prefence, MA
And ye fhall find me thankful. Lead the way, Lords;
Ye must all fee the Queen, and the must thank ye,
She will be fick elfe. This day no man think,
H'as business at his houfe, for all fhall ftay;
This little one shall make it holy day.

[Exeunt,

multitudes for a great part of the winter. Yet pomp is not the only merit of this play. The meek forrows and virtuous diftrefs of Catharine have furnished fome scenes which may be justly numbered among the greatest efforts of tragedy. But the genius of Shakespeare comes in and goes out with Catharine. Every other part may be easily conceived, and easily written.

ΕΡΙ