Cranmer. For me? Receive him, Stay, good my lords; I have a little yet to say. Look there, my By virtue of that ring I take my cause [lords: 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 heaven! I told ye all, When we first put this dangerous stone a rolling, 'Twould fall upon ourselves. The chief aim of his honour; and, to strengthen You were ever good at sudden commendations, me; But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I'm sure, He that dares most, but wag his finger at thee: May it please your grace,- No, sir, it does not please me. [standing Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye King Henry. Well, well, my lords, respect him: Am, for his love and service, so to him. I have a suit which you must not deny me; tism, You must be godfather, and answer for her. 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 Henry. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons. You shall have two noble partners with you; ACT v. Sc. III. Cranmer. KING HENRY VIII. And let heaven Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation. King Henry. Good man! those joyful tears show thy true A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever." [Exeunt. SCENE III. The Palace Yard. 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, haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that like a mortar-piece, to blow us. There was a railed 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' the Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to the broomstaff to me: I defied 'em still; when sud Noise and Tumult within. Enter Porter and denly a file of boys behind 'em, loose shot, de his Man. 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 the larder. Porter. 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, How got they in, and be hang'd? Man. Alas, I know not: how gets the tide in? Porter. I am not Samson, nor sir Guy, nor Colbrand, to mow 'em 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 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 What would you have me do? What should you do, but knock 'em down by the 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 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. 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, There's a trim rabble let in. Are all these You great fellow, You i' the camblet, get up o' the rail; YY [Exeunt. SCENE SCENE IV. The Palace at Greenwich. 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, &c. Train borne by a Lady: then follows the Marchioness of Dorset, the other godinother, and Ladies. The Troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks. Garter. Heaven, From thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, Flourish. Enter King, and Train. And to your royal grace, and the good queen, King Henry, Under his own vine what he plants; and sing That were the servants to this chosen infant, Thou speakest wonders. She shall be, to the happiness of England, An aged princess; many days shall see her, Thank you, good lord archbishop; And yet no day without a deed to crown it. What is her name? King Henry. My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal. I thank ye heartily: so shall this lady, When she has so much English. Cranmer. Though in her cradle, yet now promises Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her: bless her: Would I had known no more! but she must die: She must; the saints must have her: yet a virA most unspotted lily shall she pass [gin, To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. King Henry. O, lord archbishop! Thou hast made me now a man: never, before This happy child, did I get any thing. This oracle of comfort has so pleased 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 received much honour by your presence, And ye shall find me thankful.-Lead the way, lords: [ye Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank She will be sick else. This day, no man think He has business at his house, for all shall stay: This little one shall make it holiday. [Exeunt. 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, They'll say, 'tis naught: others, to hear the city Deiphobus, Helenus, Eneas, Trojan Commanders. Antenor, DRAMATIS PERSONE. Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, Pa Grecian Commanders. Thersites, a deformed and scurrilous Grecian. Servant to Troilus; Servant to Paris; Servant Calchas, a Trojan Priest, taking part with the Helen, Wife to Menelaus. Greeks. Andromache, Wife to Hector. Cassandra, Daughter to Priam; a Prophetess. Cressida, Daughter to Calchas. Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants. SCENE, Troy, and the Grecian Camp before it. THE PROLOGUE. Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils, IN Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Beginning in the middle; starting thence away Greece The princes orgulous, their high blood chaf'd, To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures With wanton Paris sleeps; and that's the quarrel. To Tenedos they come, And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge Their warlike fraughtage: now on Dardan plains The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits To what may be digested in a play. ACT I. SCENE 1. Troy. Before Priam's Palace. CALL here my varlet; I'll unarm again: Will this gear ne'er be mended? The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength, Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant ; But I am weaker than a woman's tear, Tamer Pandarus. Troilus. Thou dost not speak so much. Pandarus, 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is: if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the 'mends in her own hands. Troilus. Good Pandarus. How now, Pandarus! Pandarus. I have had my labour for my travail; illthought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: my labour. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the gone between and between, but small thanks for bolting. 6 Have I not tarried? Troilus. I was about to tell thee,-when my heart, As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain, Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, I have (as when the sun doth light a storm) Bury'd this sigh in wrinkle of a smile; But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness, Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. Pandarus. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's, (well, go to) there were no more comparison between the women,- but, for my part, she is my kinswoman: I would not, as they term it, praise her,but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did: I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit, but — Troilus. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd, Reply not in how many fathoms deep They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad In Cressid's love: thou answer'st, she is fair; Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart [voice, Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her Handlest in thy discourse, O! that her hand, In whose comparison all whites are ink, Writing their own reproach: to whose soft seizure The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell'st me, As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her; Pandarus. I speak no more than truth. Troilus. I do not care whether you do or no. fool to stay behind her father: let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see her. For my part, I'll meddle nor make no more i' the matter. Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all as I found it, and there an end. [Exit Pandarus. An Alarum. Troilus. Peace, you ungracious clamours! Peace, rude sounds! Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, When with your blood, you daily paint her thus. cannot fight upon this argument; It is too starv'd a subject for my sword. Troilus. Because not there: this woman's answer sorts, For womanish it is to be from thence. What news, Eneas, from the field to-day? Eneas. That Paris is returned home, and hurt. Troilus. [me |