Sends you his princely commendations,

And heartily entreats you take good comfort.

[Catherine.] O my good lord, that comfort comes too late; 'Tis like a pardon after execution :

That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me,
But now I'm past all comfort here but prayers.
How does his highness?

[Capucius.] Madam, in good health.

[Catherine.] So may he ever do! and ever flourish
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banish'd the kingdom!-Patience, is that letter
I caus'd you write, yet sent away

[Patience.] No, madam.

?

[Catherine.] Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver This to my lord the king:

In which I have commended to his goodness

The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter:-
The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!
Beseeching him to give her virtu'ous breeding,
(I hope she will deserve well,) and a little
To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
Is, that his noble grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
The last is, for my men ;-they are the poorest,
But poverty could never draw them from me.
If heaven had pleas'd to give me longer life,
And able means, we had not parted thus:
Good my lord,

By that you love the dearest in the world,

Stand these poor peoples' friend, and urge the king
To do me this last right.

[Capucius.] Madam, I will.

[Catherine.] I thank you, honest lord. Remember me, In all humility, unto his highness:

Say, his long trouble now is passing

Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd him,
For so I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell,
My lord!-Griffith, farewell!-Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed;
Call in more women.- -When I a'm dead, good wench,
Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world know
I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me,
Then lay me forth:-although unqueen'd, yet like
A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
I can no more!-

may

THE CHRISTENING OF THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH INDICATED BY A SCENE SUPPOSED TO OCCUR AT THE PALACE.

HISTORICAL MEMORANDUM.

The princess Elizabeth was born Sept. 7, 1533, and soon after baptized: Cranmer, who, earlier in the same year had been installed archbishop of Canterbury, was godfather, and the dowager duchess of Norfolk and the marchioness of Dorset, the godmothers.

We must imagine ourselves within the palace, first at the door which opens into the palace yard. The porter is endeavouring to keep back the multitude, who press from without while waiting to see the return of the train from the church, whither the infant princess is taken to be christened: the porter, who has his man with him, is speaking to those without:

[Porter.] Leave your noise, ye rascals: d'ye take this for the bear garden?

A voice from without exclaims:

[Voice.] Good master porter, I belong to the larder.

[Porter.] Belong to the gallows, you rogue. Is this a place

to roar in ?

He turns to his man:

Go and fetch me a dozen crab staves, and strong ones:
I'll scratch their heads for them.

[Man.] Pray, sir, be patient: 'tis as much impossible
(Unless you sweep them from the door with cannons,)
To scatter them, as 'tis to make them sleep

On May-day morning: which will never be :

You may as well push 'gainst Saint Paul's, as stir them. [Porter.] How got they in, and be hang'd?

[Man.] Alas, I know not how does a tide get in ? As much as one sound cudgel of four foot

Could do, I did: you see, sir, what is left of it. [Porter.] You did nothing: d'ye hear the noise they make? keep the door close, sirrah.

[Man.] What would you have me do?

[Porter.] What should you do, but knock them down by dozens. Is this Moorfields to muster in? There's a fellow somewhat near the door that should be a brazier by his face; for, on my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now reign in his nose: all that stand about him are under the line: this fire-drake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged against me: he stands there like a mortar, to blow us up. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that railed upon me till her pink porringer cap fell off her head. I missed the brazier once, and hit the woman, when forty truncheoneers came to her succour, the hope of the Strand where she was quartered. Yet I defied them all, till a file of boys delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in. The devil's among them, I think.

The lord chamberlain comes from the interior of the palace to the door, and speaks:

[Chamberlain.] Why, mercy! what a multitude are here, As if we kept a fair! 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' the suburbs? We shall have
Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
When they pass back fro'm the christening.

[Porter.] An't please your honour,

We are but men; and what two men may do,
Not being torn in pieces, we have done:
An army cannot rule them.

[Chamberlain.] As I live,

all

If the king blame me for 't, I'll lay you
By' the heels, and suddenly; and, on your heads,
Clap round fines for neglect. The trumpets sound;
They a're come already from the christening :
Go, break
among the press, and find a way out

To let the troop pass fairly; or I'll find

A marshalsea shall hold you play these two months.

We pass from this spot to the interior of the palace, in order to await the entrance of the train from the christening: the poet thus describes it:-First enter the trumpeters, sounding; then two aldermen; the lord mayor; garter-king-at-arms; Cranmer; the duke of Norfolk, with his marshal's staff; the duke of Suffolk: next 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; train borne by a lady: then follows the marchioness of Dorset, the other godmother, with ladies-the troop being entered, Garter makes proclamation:

[Garter.] Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long and ever happy, to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth!

The king and his train enter: Cranmer takes the child, kneels, and presents it to the king:

[Cranmer.] And for 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 you!

[K. Henry.] Thank you, good lord Archbishop:
What is her name?

[Cranmer.] Elizabeth.

[K. Henry.] Stand up, lord,

Let me kiss the child-there: may God protect thee,
Into whose hands I give thy life.

[Cranmer.] Amen.

The words which heaven now bids me further speak,
Let none think flattery: for they 'll find them 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: Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue,
Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces,
With all the virtues which attend the good,

Shall still be doubled on her truth shall nurse her,
Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:

She shall be lov'd and fear'd: her own shall bless her;
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
And hang their heads in 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.
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 die,