Flourish. Enter KING and Train.

Cran. [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!

K. Hen. Thank you, good lord Archbishop;
What is her name?

Cran.

K. Hen.

Elizabeth.

Stand up, lord.

[The KING kisses the Child.

With this kiss take my blessing: God protect

thee!

Into whose hand I give thy life.

Cran.

Amen.

K. Hen. My noble gossips, ye have been too

prodigal.

I thank ye heartily: so shall this lady,

When she has so much English.

Cran.

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 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 loved, and feared 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 fixed. 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.

K. Hen.

Thou speakest wonders. Cran. 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 dieShe must, the saints must have her ;-yet a virgin, A most unspotted lily shall she pass

To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. K. Hen. 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 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 your 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 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.

EPILOGUE.

"T is 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, We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 't is clear,

They'll say, 't is naught: others, to hear the city Abused extremely, and to cry,-'That's witty !'

192

KING HENRY VIII.

Which we have not done neither; that, I fear, All the expected good we 're like to hear

For this play, at this time, is only in

The merciful construction of good women;
If they smile,
For such a one we showed 'em.

And 't will do, I know, within a while
say,

All the best men are ours; for 't is ill hap,

If they hold, when their ladies bid 'em clap.