2 Heauen blesse thee,
Thou hast the sweetest face I euer look'd on.
Sir, as I haue a Soule, she is an Angell;
Our King ha's all the Indies in his Armes,
And more, and richer, when he straines that Lady,
I cannot blame his Conscience
1 They that beare The Cloath of Honour ouer her, are foure Barons Of the Cinque-Ports
2 Those men are happy,
And so are all, are neere her.
I take it, she that carries vp the Traine,
Is that old Noble Lady, Dutchesse of Norfolke
1 It is, and all the rest are Countesses
2 Their Coronets say so. These are Starres indeed,
And sometimes falling ones
2 No more of that.
Enter a third Gentleman.
1 God saue you Sir. Where haue you bin broiling?
3 Among the crowd i'th' Abbey, where a finger
Could not be wedg'd in more: I am stifled
With the meere ranknesse of their ioy
2 You saw the Ceremony?
3 That I did
1 How was it?
3 Well worth the seeing
2 Good Sir, speake it to vs?
3 As well as I am able. The rich streame
Of Lords, and Ladies, hauing brought the Queene
To a prepar'd place in the Quire, fell off
A distance from her; while her Grace sate downe
To rest a while, some halfe an houre, or so,
In a rich Chaire of State, opposing freely
The Beauty of her Person to the People.
Beleeue me Sir, she is the goodliest Woman
That euer lay by man: which when the people
Had the full view of, such a noyse arose,
As the shrowdes make at Sea, in a stiffe Tempest,
As lowd, and to as many Tunes. Hats, Cloakes,
(Doublets, I thinke) flew vp, and had their Faces
Bin loose, this day they had beene lost. Such ioy
I neuer saw before. Great belly'd women,
That had not halfe a weeke to go, like Rammes
In the old time of Warre, would shake the prease
And make 'em reele before 'em. No man liuing
Could say this is my wife there, all were wouen
So strangely in one peece