Which time fhall 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 fucceed. Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom 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 nurfe her:
Holy and heav'nly thoughts ftill counsel her:

She shall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own fhall bless her;
Her foes fhake like a field of beaten corn,.

And hang their heads with forrow. Good grows with her.
In her days every man shall 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 hall read the perfect ways of honour,
And claim by those their greatness, 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 the 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 the 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 shine,
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 fpeakeft wonders.

Cran. She fhall be, to the happinefs of England,
An aged Princefs; many days fhall fee her,
And yet no day without a deed to crown it,

Would

Would I had known no more! but she must die,
She muft, the faints must have her yet a virgin;
A most unfpotted lilly shall she pafs

Unto the 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,

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 prefence,

And ye fhall find me thankful. Lead the way, Lords;
Ye muft all fee the Queen, and the must thank ye,
She will be fick elfe. This day no man think
He'as business at his houfe, for all shall stay,
This little one fhall make it holy-day.

[Exeunt.

"T

EPILOGUE.

IS ten to one this play can never please
All that are bere: fome come to take their cafe,
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 bear the city
Abus' d extreamly, and to cry that's witty;
Which we have not done neither; that I fear
All the expected good w'are 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 smile,
And Jay 'twill do I know within a while
All the beft men are ours; for 'tis ill bap,
If they bold when their ladies bid 'em clap.

The End of the SIXTH VOLUME.

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