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By th' heels, and fuddenly; and on your heads
Clap round fines for neglect. Y'are lazy knaves;
And here ye lie baiting of bumbards, when
Ye fhould do fervice. Hark, the trumpets found,
Th'are come already from the christning.

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

A Marshalfea, shall hold you play these two months.
Port. Make way for the Princess.

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 else.

$ CEN E VIII.

Changes to the Palace.

[Exeunt.

Enter Trumpets founding; then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with bis Marfbal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing great standing bowls for the chriftning gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Dutchefs of Norfolk, god-mother, bearing the child richly babited 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 ftage, and Garter speaks.

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

And ever happy, to the high aud mighty

Princefs of England, fair Elizabeth!

9-bere ye lie baiting of bum bard..] A bumbard is an ale-bar

rel; to bait bumbards is to ripple, to lie at the spigut.

Flourish.

Flourish. Enter King and Guard.

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

My noble partners and myself 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 she has fo much English.

Cran. Let me fpeak, 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, heav'n still move about her!
Though in her cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness. 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 fhould 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 fhake, like a field of beaten corn,

And

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 thofe about her
From her fhall read the perfect ways of honour,
And claim by thofe 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 herfelf;

So fhall fhe leave her bleffedness 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,
Terror,

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: childrens' children
Shall fee this, and blefs heav'n.

Nor fhall this peace fleep with ber.] Thefe lines, to the interruption by the King, feem to have been inferted at fome 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 firft celebrates Elizabeth's fucceffor, and then wishes he did not know

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that she was to die; first rejoices at the confequence, and then laments the cause. 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 obfervation.

King,

King. Thou fpeakest wonders.]

Cran. She fhall be, to the happiness of England,
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 she must die,
She muft, the Saints must have her; yet a Virgin,
A most unfpotted lily fhe fhall pafs

To th' ground, and all the world fhall 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 fhall 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, I am much beholden:
I have receiv'd much honour by your presence,
And ye fhall find me thankful. Lead the way, Lords;
Ye muft 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.

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[Exeunt.

coronation about forty years ago drew the people together in 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 Catherine have furnished fome fcenes which may be juftly numbered among the greatest efforts of tragedy. But the genius of Shakespeare comes in and goes out with Catherine. Every other part may be easily conceived, and eafily written.

EPI

EPILOGUE.

"T

IS ten to one, this Play can never please

All that are here. Some come to take their eaft, And fleep an Act or two; but thofe, 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 we're like to bear For this Play at this time, is only in The merciful conftruction of good women ; For fuch a one we fhew'd'em. If they fmile, And fay 'twill do; I know within a while All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap, If they bold, when their ladies bid'em clap.

In the character of Catharine.

Though it is very difficult to decidewhether fhort pieces be genuine or fpurious, yet I cannot reftrain myfelf from expreffing my fufpicionthat neithertheprologue nor epilogue to this play is the work of Shakespeare; non vultus, non color. It appears to me very likely that they were fupplied by the friendship or officioufnefs of Johnson, whofe manner they will be perhaps found exactly to refemble. There is yet another

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fuppofition poffible: the prologue and epilogue may have been written after Shakespeare's departure from the stage, upon fome accidental revifal of the play, and there will then be reafon for imagining that the writer, whoever he was, intended no great kindness to him, this play being recommended by a fubtle and covert cenfure of his other works. There is

in

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