e is young, and of a noble modest nature; I hope she will deserve well-and a little To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him, Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition Is that his noble Grace would have some pity Upon my wretched women that so long Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully; Of which there is not one, I dare avow- And now I should not lie-but will deserve, For virtue and true beauty of the soul, For honesty and decent carriage, A right good husband, let him be a noble; And sure those men are happy that shall have 'em. The last is for my men-they are the poorest, But poverty could never draw 'em from me- That they may have their wages duly paid 'em, And something over to remember me by. If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life And able means, we had not parted thus. These are the whole contents; and, good my lord, By that you love the dearest in this world, As you wish Christian peace to souls departed, Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the King To do me this last right. CAPUCIUS. By heaven, I will, Or let me lose the fashion of a man! KATHARINE. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me In all humility unto his Highness; Say his long trouble now is passing Out of this world. Tell him in death I bless'd him, For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell, My lord. Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience, You must not leave me yet. I must to bed; Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench, Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over With maiden flowers, that all the world may know I was a chaste wife to my grave. Embalm me, Then lay me forth; although unqueen'd, yet like A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me. I can no more. Exeunt, leading KATHARINE ACT V. SCENE 1. London. A gallery in the palace Enter GARDINER, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, a PAGE with a torch before him, met by SIR THOMAS LOVELL GARDINER. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not? BOY. It hath struck. GARDINER. These should be hours for necessities, Not for delights; times to repair our nature With comforting repose, and not for us To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas! Whither so late? LOVELL. Came you from the King, my lord? GARDINER. I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero With the Duke of Suffolk. LOVELL. I must to him too, Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave. GARDINER. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter? It seems you are in haste. An if there be No great offence belongs to't, give your friend Some touch of your late business. Affairs that walk- As they say spirits do-at midnight, have In them a wilder nature than the business That seeks despatch by day. LOVELL. My lord, I love you; And durst commend a secret to your ear Much weightier than this work. The Queen's in labour, They say in great extremity, and fear'd She'll with the labour end. GARDINER. The fruit she goes with I pray for heartily, that it may find Good time, and live; but for the stock, Sir Thomas, I wish it grubb'd up now. LOVELL. Methinks I could Cry thee amen; and yet my conscience says She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does Deserve our better wishes. GARDINER. But, sir, sir- Hear me, Sir Thomas. Y'are a gentleman Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious; And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well- 'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me- Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she, Sleep in their graves. LOVELL. Now, sir, you speak of two The most remark'd i' th' kingdom. As for Cromwell, Beside that of the Jewel House, is made Master O' th' Rolls, and the King's secretary; further, sir, Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments, With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop Is the King's hand and tongue, and who dare speak One syllable against him? GARDINER. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas, There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd To speak my mind of him; and indeed this day, Sir-I may tell it you-I think I have Incens'd the lords o' th' Council, that he is- For so I know he is, they know he is- A most arch heretic, a pestilence That does infect the land; with which they moved Have broken with the King, who hath so far Given ear to our complaint-of his great grace And princely care, foreseeing those fell mischiefs Our reasons laid before him-hath commanded To-morrow morning to the Council board He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas, And we must root him out. From your affairs I hinder you too long-good night, Sir Thomas. LOVELL. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your servant. Exeunt GARDINER and PAGE Enter the KING and the DUKE OF SUFFOLK KING. Charles, I will play no more to-night; My mind's not on't; you are too hard for me. SUFFOLK. Sir, I did never win of you before. KING. But little, Charles; Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play. Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news? LOVELL. I could not personally deliver to her What you commanded me, but by her woman I sent your message; who return'd her thanks In the great'st humbleness, and desir'd your Highness Most heartily to pray for her. KING. What say'st thou, ha? To pray for her? What, is she crying out? LOVELL. So said her woman; and that her suff'rance made Almost each pang a death. KING. Alas, good lady! SUFFOLK. God safely quit her of her burden, and With gentle travail, to the gladding of Your Highness with an heir! KING. 'Tis midnight, Charles; Prithee to bed; and in thy pray'rs remember Th' estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone, For I must think of that which company Will not be friendly to. SUFFOLK. I wish your Highness A quiet night, and my good mistress will Remember in my prayers. KING. Charles, good night. Exit SUFFOLK Enter SIR ANTHONY DENNY Well, sir, what follows? DENNY. Sir, I have brought my lord the Archbishop, As you commanded me. KING. Ha! Canterbury? DENNY. Ay, my good lord. KING. 'Tis true. Where is he, Denny? DENNY. He attends your Highness' pleasure. KING. Bring him to us. Exit DENNY LOVELL. [Aside] This is about that which the bishop spake. I am happily come hither. Re-enter DENNY, With CRANMER KING. Avoid the gallery. [LOVELL seems to stay] Ha! I have said. Be gone. What! Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY CRANMER. [Aside] I am fearful-wherefore frowns he thus? 'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well. KING. How now, my lord? You do desire to know Wherefore I sent for you. CRANMER. [Kneeling] It is my duty T'attend your Highness' pleasure. KING. Pray you, arise, My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury. Come, you and I must walk a turn together; I have news to tell you; come, come, 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 Tow'r. You a brother of us, It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness Would come against you. CRANMER. I humbly thank your Highness And am right glad to catch this good occasion Most throughly to be winnowed where my chaff And corn shall fly asunder; for I know There's none stands under more calumnious tongues Than I myself, poor man. KING. Stand up, good Canterbury; Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand, stand up; Prithee let's walk. Now, by my holidame, 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 further. CRANMER. 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. KING. Know you not How your state stands i' th' world, with the whole world? Your enemies are many, and not small; their practices Must bear the same proportion; and not ever The justice and the truth o' th' question carries The due o' th' 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, 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. CRANMER. God and your Majesty Protect mine innocence, or I fall into The trap is laid for me! KING. Be of good cheer; They shall no more prevail than we give way to. Keep comfort to you, and this morning see You do appear before them; if they shall chance, In charging you with matters, to commit you, The best persuasions to the contrary Fail not to use, and with what vehemency Th' occasion shall instruct you. If entreaties Will render you no remedy, this ring Deliver them, and your appeal to us There make before them. Look, the good man weeps! He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest Mother! I swear he is true-hearted, and a soul None better in my kingdom. Get you gone, And do as I have bid you. Exit CRANMER He has strangled his language in his tears. Enter OLD LADY GENTLEMAN. [Within] Come back; what mean you? OLD LADY. I'll not come back; the tidings that I bring Will make my boldness manners. Now, good angels Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person Under their blessed wings! KING. Now, by thy looks I guess thy message. Is the Queen deliver'd? Say ay, and of a boy. OLD LADY. Ay, ay, my liege; And of a lovely boy. The God of Heaven Both now and ever bless her! 'Tis a girl, Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen Desires your visitation, and to be Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you As cherry is to cherry. KING. Lovell! Enter LOVELL LOVELL. Sir? KING. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen. Exit OLD LADY. An hundred marks? By this light, I'll ha' more! An ordinary groom is for such payment. I will have more, or scold it out of him. Said I for this the girl was like to him! I'll Have more, or else unsay't; and now, while 'tis hot, I'll put it to the issue. Exeunt ACT V. SCENE 2. Lobby before the Council Chamber Enter CRANMER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY CRANMER. I hope I am not too late; and yet the gentleman That was sent to me from the Council pray'd me To make great haste. All fast? What means this? Ho! Who waits there? Sure you know me? Enter KEEPER KEEPER. Yes, my lord; But yet I cannot help you. CRANMER. Why? KEEPER. Your Grace must wait till you be call'd for. Enter DOCTOR BUTTS CRANMER. So. BUTTS. [Aside] This is a piece of malice. I am glad I came this way so happily; the King Shall understand it presently. Exit CRANMER. [Aside] 'Tis Butts, The King's physician; as he pass'd along, How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! Pray heaven he sound not my disgrace! For certain, This is of purpose laid 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 councillor, 'Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience. Enter the KING and BUTTS at window above BUTTS. I'll show your Grace the strangest sight- KING. What's that, Butts? BUTTS. I think your Highness saw this many a day. KING. Body a me, where is it? BUTTS. There my lord: The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury; Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants, Pages, and footboys. KING. Ha, 'tis he indeed. Is this the honour they do one another? 'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I had thought They had parted so much honesty among 'em- At least good manners-as not thus to suffer A man of his place, and so near our favour, To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures, And at the door too, like a post with packets. By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery! Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close; We shall hear more anon. Exeunt ACT V. SCENE 3. The Council Chamber A Council table brought in, with chairs and stools, and placed under the state. Enter LORD CHANCELLOR, places himself at the upper end of the table on the left band, a seat being left void above him, as for Canterbury's seat. DUKE OF SUFFOLK, DUKE OF NORFOLK, SURREY, LORD CHAMBERLAIN, GARDINER, seat themselves in order on each side; CROMWELL at lower end, as secretary. KEEPER at the door CHANCELLOR. Speak to the business, master secretary; Why are we met in council? CROMWELL. Please your honours, The chief cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury. GARDINER. Has he had knowledge of it? CROMWELL. Yes. NORFOLK. Who waits there? KEEPER. Without, my noble lords? GARDINER. Yes. KEEPER. My Lord Archbishop; And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures. CHANCELLOR. Let him come in. KEEPER. Your Grace may enter now. CRANMER approaches the Council table CHANCELLOR. My good Lord Archbishop, I am very sorry To sit here at this present, and behold That chair stand empty; but we all are men, In our own natures frail and capable Of our flesh; few are angels; out of which frailty And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us, Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little, Toward the King first, then his laws, in filling The whole realm by your teaching and your chaplains- For so we are inform'd-with new opinions, Divers and dangerous; which are heresies, And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious. GARDINER. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, But stop their mouth with stubborn bits and spur 'em Till they obey the manage. If we suffer, Out of our easiness and childish pity To one man's honour, this contagious sickness, Farewell all physic; and what follows then? Commotions, uproars, with a general taint Of the whole state; as of late days our neighbours, The upper Germany, can dearly witness, Yet freshly pitied in our memories. CRANMER. My good lords, hitherto in all the progress Both of my life and office, I have labour'd, And with no little study, that my teaching And the strong course of my authority Might go one way, and safely; and the end Was ever to do well. Nor is there living- I speak it with a single heart, my lords- A man that more detests, more stirs against, Both in his private conscience and his place, Defacers of a public peace than I do. Pray heaven the King may never find a heart With less allegiance in it! Men that make Envy and crooked malice nourishment Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships That, in this case of justice, my accusers, Be what they will, may stand forth face to face And freely urge against me. SUFFOLK. Nay, my lord, That cannot be; you are a councillor, And by that virtue no man dare accuse you. GARDINER. My lord, because we have business of more moment, We will be short with you. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure And our consent, for better trial of you, From hence you be committed to the Tower; Where, being but a private man again, You shall know many dare accuse you boldly, More than, I fear, you are provided for. CRANMER. Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you; You are always my good friend; if your will pass, I shall both find your lordship judge and juror, You are so merciful. I see your end- 'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition; Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast none away. That I shall clear myself, Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, I make as little doubt as you do conscience In doing daily wrongs. I could say more, But reverence to your calling makes me modest. GARDINER. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary; That's the plain truth. Your painted gloss discovers, To men that understand you, words and weakness. CROMWELL. My Lord of Winchester, y'are a little, By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble, However faulty, yet should find respect For what they have been; 'tis a cruelty To load a falling man. GARDINER. Good Master Secretary, I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst Of all this table, say so. CROMWELL. Why, my lord? GARDINER. Do not I know you for a favourer Of this new sect? Ye are not sound. CROMWELL. Not sound? GARDINER. Not sound, I say. CROMWELL. Would you were half so honest! Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears. GARDINER. I shall remember this bold language. CROMWELL. Do. Remember your bold life too. CHANCELLOR. This is too much; Forbear, for shame, my lords. GARDINER. I have done. CROMWELL. And I. CHANCELLOR. Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed, I take it, by all voices, that forthwith You be convey'd to th' Tower a prisoner; There to remain till the King's further pleasure Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords? ALL. We are. CRANMER. Is there no other way of mercy, But I must needs to th' Tower, my lords? GARDINER. What other Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome. Let some o' th' guard be ready there. Enter the guard CRANMER. For me? Must I go like a traitor thither? GARDINER. Receive him, And see him safe i' th' Tower. CRANMER. Stay, good my lords, 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. CHAMBERLAIN. This is the King's ring. SURREY. 'Tis no counterfeit. SUFFOLK. 'Tis the right ring, by heav'n. I told ye all, When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling, 'Twould fall upon ourselves. NORFOLK. Do you think, my lords, The King will suffer but the little finger Of this man to be vex'd? CHAMBERLAIN. 'Tis now too certain; How much more is his life in value with him! Would I were fairly out on't! CROMWELL. 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 the KING frowning on them; he takes his seat GARDINER. 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 The cause betwixt her and this great offender. KING. You were ever good at sudden commendations, Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not To hear such flattery now, and in my presence They are too thin and bare 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'm sure Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody. [To CRANMER] Good man, 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 this place becomes thee not. SURREY. May it please your Grace- KING. 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 councillor 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. CHANCELLOR. 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'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 beholding to a subject, 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 Canterbury, I have a suit which you must not deny me: That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism; You must be godfather, and answer for her. CRANMER. 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 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. GARDINER. With a true heart And brother-love I do it. CRANMER. And let heaven Witness how dear I hold this confirmation. KING. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart. The common voice, I see, is verified Of thee, which says thus: 'Do my Lord of Canterbury A shrewd turn and he's your friend for ever.' Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long To have this young one made a Christian. As I have made ye one, lords, one remain; So I grow stronger, you more honour gain. Exeunt ACT V. SCENE 4. The palace yard Noise and tumult within. Enter PORTER and his MAN PORTER. 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 th' larder.] PORTER. Belong to th' gallows, and be hang'd, ye rogue! Is this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, 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 impossible, Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons, To 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 stir 'em. PORTER. 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. PORTER. You did nothing, sir. MAN. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, To mow 'em down before me; but if I spar'd any That had a head to hit, either young or old, He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker, Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again; And that I would not for a cow, God save her! [ Within: Do you hear, master porter?] PORTER. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy. Keep the door close, sirrah. MAN. What would you have me do? PORTER. What should you do, but knock 'em down by th' 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 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, 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. That fire-drake 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'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 cried out 'Clubs!' when I might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to her succour, which were the hope o' th' Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place. At length they came to th' broomstaff to me; I defied 'em still; when suddenly a file of boys behind 'em, loose shot, deliver'd such a show'r of pebbles that I was fain to draw mine honour in and let 'em win the work: the devil was amongst 'em, I think surely. PORTER. 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, 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 the LORD CHAMBERLAIN CHAMBERLAIN. 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? Y'have made a fine hand, fellows. There's a trim rabble let in: are all these Your faithful friends o' th' suburbs? We shall have Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies, When they pass back from the christening. PORTER. 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 'em. CHAMBERLAIN. As I live, If the King blame me for't, I'll lay ye an By th' heels, and suddenly; and on your heads Clap round fines for neglect. Y'are lazy knaves; And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets sound; Th' are come already from the christening. Go break among the press and find a way out To let the troops pass fairly, or I'll find A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months. PORTER. Make way there for the Princess. MAN. You great fellow, Stand close up, or I'll make your head ache. PORTER. You i' th' camlet, get up o' th' rail; I'll peck you o'er the pales else. Exeunt ACT V. SCENE 5. The palace Enter TRUMPETS, sounding; then two ALDERMEN, LORD MAYOR, GARTER, CRANMER, DUKE OF NORFOLK, with his marshal's staff, DUKE OF SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls 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, etc., train borne by a LADY; then follows the MARCHIONESS DORSET, the other godmother, and LADIES. The troop pass once about the stage, and GARTER speaks GARTER. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long and ever-happy, to the high and mighty Princess of England, Elizabeth! Flourish. Enter KING and guard CRANMER. [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! KING. Thank you, good Lord Archbishop. What is her name? CRANMER. Elizabeth. KING. Stand up, lord. [The KING kisses the child] With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee! Into whose hand I give thy life. CRANMER. Amen. KING. My noble gossips, y'have been too prodigal; I thank ye heartily. So shall this lady, When she has so much English. CRANMER. Let me speak, sir, For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth. This royal infant-heaven still move about her!- Though in her cradle, yet now promises Upon this land a 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. Saba 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; 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 Shall be, and make new nations; he shall flourish, And like a mountain cedar reach his branches To all the plains about him; our children's children Shall see this and bless heaven. KING. Thou speakest wonders. CRANMER. She shall be, to the happiness of England, 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 th' ground, and all the world shall mourn her. KING. O Lord Archbishop, Thou hast made me now a man; never before This happy child did I get anything. This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me That when I am in heaven I shall desire To see what this child does, and praise my Maker. I thank ye all. To you, my good Lord Mayor, And you, good brethren, I am much beholding; I have receiv'd much honour by your presence, And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords; Ye must all see the Queen, and she must thank ye, She will be sick else. This day, no man think Has business at his house; for all shall stay. This little one shall make it holiday. Exeunt KING_HENRY_VIII|EPILOGUE THE 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, W'have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear, They'll say 'tis nought; others to hear the city Abus'd extremely, and to cry 'That's witty!' Which we have not done neither; that, I fear, All the expected good w'are like to hear For this play at this time is only in The merciful construction of good women; For such a one we show'd 'em. If they smile And say 'twill do, I know within a while All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap. THE END