K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden commendations, Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not me; But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure, He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee: 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. K. Hen. 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.; In such an honour; How may I deserve it, Two noble partners with you; the old duchess of And lady marquiss Dorset: Will these please you? Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you, Embrace, and love this man. Gar. And brother-love, I do it. Cran. With a true heart, And let heaven Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation. Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man. Port. 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. 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 im- (Unless we sweep them from the door with cannons,) Port. You did nothing, sir. Man. I am not Samson, nor sir Guy, nor Colbrand, 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? puppy. Port. What should you do, but knock them 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 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 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 truncheoneers K. Hen. Good man, those joyful tears show thy draw to her succour, which were the hope of the true heart. The common voice, I see, is verified Of thee, which says thus, Do my lord of Canterbury A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.— Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long 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, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let them win the work: The devil was amongst them, I think, surely. Port. These are the youths that thunder at a play-house, 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 them in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three days; besides the running banquet of two beadles, that is And here ye lie baiting of bumbards, when Ye should do service. Hark, the trumpets sound; A Marshalsea, shall hold you play these two months. Port. Make way there for the princess. 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 [Exeunt. pick you o'er the pales else. SCENE IV. - 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, &c. Train borne by a Lady: then follows the MARCHIONESS OF DORSET, the other The troop pass once godmother, and Ladies. about the stage, and Garter speaks. Gart. 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 Train. Cran. [Kneeling.] And to your royal grace, My noble partners, and myself, thus pray ;— and Thank you, good lord archbishop, K. Hen. Cran. Elizabeth. Stand up, lord. Cran. K. Hen. My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal : Let me speak, sir, I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady, And all that shall succeed: Sheba was never Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse her, Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her: her: Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, In her days, every man shall eat in safety So shall she leave her blessedness to one, Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour, That were the servants to this chosen infant, K. Hen. Our children's Thou speakest wonders.] To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. Thou hast made me now a man; never, before of Dardan, and Tymbria, Ilias, Chetas, Trojan, The princes orgulous, their high blood chaf'd, With wanton Paris sleeps; And that's the quarrel. And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits, ACT I. SCENE L-Troy. Before Priam's Palace. Enter TROILUS armed, and PANdarus. Tre. Call here my varlet, I'll unarm again; Why should I war without the walls of Troy, That find such cruel battle here within? Each Trojan, that is master of his heart, Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength, Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant ; Pan. Ay, to the leavening: but here's yet in the word hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips. Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do. At Priam's royal table do I sit; And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts, thence? When is she As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain ; Pan. 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 Tro. 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 Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice; 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; Pan. I speak no more than truth. Pan. '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. Tro. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus? Pan. I have had my labour for my travel; illthought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone between and between, but small thanks for my labour. Tro. Pandarus,— Pan. Not I. Tro. Sweet Pandarus, — Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; leave all as I found it, and there an end. I will [Exit PANDARUS. An alarum. Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds! Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, Alarum. Enter ENEAS. Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore no afield? Tro. Because not there; This woman's answer |