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SCENE, the Palace.

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

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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. And to your royal Grace, and the good Queen, My noble partners and my felf 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.

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

Cran. Amen.

King. My noble goffips, y'have been too prodigal,
I thank you heartily: fo fhall this lady,
When she has so much English.

Cran. Let me speak, Sir;

(For Heav'n now bids me) and the words I utter,
Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth.

This royal Infant, (heaven ftill move about her).
Though in her cradle, yet now promifes

Upon this land a thousand thousand bleffings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be

(But

(But few now living can behold that goodness)
A pattern to all Princes living with her,
And all that fhall fucceed. Sheba was never
More covetous of wifdom 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 ftill be doubled on her. Truth fhall nurse her:
Holy and heav'nly thoughts ftill counsel her:

She fhall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own fhall blefs her;
Her foes shake, 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 fhall read the perfect ways of honour,
And claim by those their Greatnefs, not by blood.
Nor fhall this peace fleep with her; but as when
The bird of wonder dies, the maiden Phoenix,
Her afhes new create another heir,

As great in admiration as her felf;

So fhall fhe leave her bleffednefs to one,

(When heav'n fhall call her from this cloud of darkness) Who from the facred afhes of her honour

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

And fo ftand fix'd. Peace, Plenty, Love, Truth, Terrour,
That were the fervants to this chofen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him;
Where-ever the bright fun of heav'n fhall fhine,
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: children's children
Shall fee this, and bless heav'n.

King. Thou fpeakest wonders.

Cran. She fhall be, to the happiness of England, (31)

G 2

(31) She shall be to the Happiness of England,

An

An aged Princefs ] The Tranfition here from the Complimentary Ad

drefs

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An aged Princess; many days fhall fee her,

And yet no day without a deed to crown it.

Would, I had known no more! but fhe muft die, (32) She muft, the Saints must have her yet a Virgin;

A most unspotted lilly fhe fhall pafs

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

Thou'ft 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,

drefs to King James the Firft is fo abrupt, that it feems obvious to me, that Compliment was inferted after the Acceffion of that Prince. If this Play was wrote, as in my opinion it was, in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth; we may eafily determine where Cranmer's Eulogium of that Princefs concluded. I make no question but the Poet rested here;

And claim by thofe their Greatness, not by Blood. All that the Bishop fays after this, was an occafional Homage paid to her Succeffor; and evidently inferted after her Demife. How naturally, without this Infertion, does the King's Joy, and fatisfactory Reflection upon the Bishop's Prophecy come in!

King. Thou Speakeft Wonders. O Lord Archbilbop,

Thouft made me now a Man. Never, before

This happy Child, did I get any Thing, &c.

Whether the King would fo properly have made this Inference, upon hearing that a Child of fo great Hopes fhould dye without Iffue, is fubmitted to Judgment.

(32) Would I had known no more: but She must dye,

She muft, the Saints must have her; yet a Virgin,

A most unfpotted Lilly, &c.] Thus the Editors hitherto, in their Sagacity, have pointed this Paffage, and destroy'd the true Senfe of it. The first part of this Sentence is a Wish: The other should be a forrowful Continuation of the Bishop's Prophecy. But, fure, Cranmer was too wife and pious a Man, too well acquainted with the State of Mortality, to make it a part of his Lamentation that this good Princefs muft one time or other go to Heaven. As I point it, the Poet makes a fine Compliment to his Royal Miftrefs's Memory, to lament that she must dye without leaving an Heir of her Body behind her. Palamon and Arcite, in the Two Noble Kinfmen of Beaumont and Fletcher, being made Prifoners to Thefeus, and fearing they fhall dye in that Captivity, lament their Fate, I remember, in much the fame manner.

Here the Graces of our Youths must wither,'
Like a too timely Spring; here Age must find us,
And, which is heaviest, Palamon, unmarried.

And

And your good brethren, I am much beholden: (33)
I have receiv'd much honour by your prefence,

And ye
fhall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords;
Ye must all fee the Queen, and she must thank ye,
She will be fick elfe. This day no man think,

H'as business at his houfe, for all shall stay;
This little one fhall make it holy-day.

[Exeunt.

(33) And you good Brethren,] But, the Aldermen never were call'd Brethren to the King. The Top of the Nobility are but Coufins and Counfellors. Dr. Thirlby, therefore, rightly advised;

And your good Brethren

i. e. the Lord Mayor's Brethren; which is properly their Style. So in the Chorus before the 5th Act of Henry V.

The Mayor, and all his Brethren in beft Sort,

Like to the Senators of antique Rome,

With the Plebeians fwarming at their Heels,
Go forth, and fetch their conqu'ring Cæfar in.

EPILOGUE.

'T

IS ten to one, this Play can never please
All that are here: fome come to take their ease,
And fleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
We've frighted with our trumpets: fo, 'tis clear,
They'll fay, it's naught. 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 ware like to hear
For this Play at this time, is only in
The merciful conftruction of good wom'n;
(For fuch a one we shew'd'em) If they smile,
And fay, '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

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