CHAMBERLAIN.
Mercy o’ me, what a multitude are here!
They grow still too. From all parts they are coming,
As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters,
These lazy knaves? You’ve made a fine hand, fellows!
There’s a trim rabble let in. Are all these
Your faithful friends o’ th’ suburbs? We shall have
Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
When they pass back from the christening.
PORTER.
An’t please your honour,
We are but men; and what so many may do,
Not being torn a-pieces, we have done.
An army cannot rule ’em.
CHAMBERLAIN.
As I live,
If the King blame me for’t, I’ll lay ye all
By th’ heels, and suddenly, and on your heads
Clap round fines for neglect. You’re lazy knaves,
And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when
Ye should do service. Hark, the trumpets sound!
They’re come already from the christening.
Go break among the press, and find a way out
To let the troops pass fairly, or I’ll find
A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months.
PORTER.
Make way there for the Princess!
PORTER’S MAN.
You great fellow,
Stand close up, or I’ll make your head ache.
PORTER.
You i’ th’ camlet, get up o’ th’ rail!
I’ll peck you o’er the pales else.
[Exeunt.]
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, etc., train borne by a Lady; then follows the Marchioness Dorset, the other godmother, and Ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks.
GARTER.
Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long and ever happy, to the high and mighty Princess of England, Elizabeth.