Man. The Spoones will be the bigger Sir: There is a fellow somewhat neere the doore, he should be a Brasier by his face, for o' my conscience twenty of the Dogdayes now reigne in's Nose; all that stand about him are vnder the Line, they need no other pennance: that FireDrake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his Nose discharged against mee; hee stands there like a Morter-piece to blow vs. There was a Habberdashers Wife of small wit, neere him, that rail'd vpon me, till her pinck'd porrenger fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the State. I mist the Meteor once, and hit that Woman, who cryed out Clubbes, when I might see from farre, some forty Truncheoners draw to her succour, which were the hope o'th' Strond where she was quartered; they fell on, I made good my place; at length they came to th' broome staffe to me, I defide 'em stil, when sodainly a File of Boyes behind 'em, loose shot, deliuer'd such a showre of Pibbles, that I was faine to draw mine Honour in, and let 'em win the Worke, the Diuell was amongst 'em I thinke surely
Por. These are the youths that thunder at a Playhouse, and fight for bitten Apples, that no Audience but the tribulation of Tower Hill, or the Limbes of Limehouse, their deare Brothers are able to endure. I haue some of 'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three dayes; besides the running Banquet of two Beadles, that is to come. Enter Lord Chamberlaine.
Cham. Mercy o' me: what a Multitude are heere? They grow still too; from all Parts they are comming, As if we kept a Faire heere? Where are these Porters? These lazy knaues? Y'haue made a fine hand fellowes? Theres a trim rabble let in: are all these Your faithfull friends o'th' Suburbs? We shall haue Great store of roome no doubt, left for the Ladies, When they passe backe from the Christening? Por. And't please your Honour, We are but men; and what so many may doe, Not being torne a pieces, we haue done: An Army cannot rule 'em
Cham. As I liue, If the King blame me for't; Ile lay ye all By th' heeles, and sodainly: and on your heads Clap round Fines for neglect: y'are lazy knaues, And heere ye lye baiting of Bombards, when Ye should doe Seruice. Harke the Trumpets sound, Th'are come already from the Christening, Go breake among the preasse, and finde away out To let the Troope passe fairely; or Ile finde A Marshallsey, shall hold ye play these two Monthes
Por. Make way there, for the Princesse
Man. You great fellow, Stand close vp, or Ile make your head ake
Por. You i'th' Chamblet, get vp o'th' raile, Ile pecke you o're the pales else.
Enter Trumpets sounding: Then two Aldermen, L[ord]. Maior, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolke with his Marshals Staffe, Duke of Suffolke, two Noblemen, bearing great standing Bowles for the Christening Guifts: Then foure Noblemen bearing a Canopy, vnder which the Dutchesse of Norfolke, Godmother, bearing the Childe richly habited in a Mantle, &c. Traine borne by a Lady: Then followes the Marchionesse Dorset, the other Godmother, and Ladies. The Troope passe once about the Stage, and Garter speakes.
Gart. Heauen From thy endlesse goodnesse, send prosperous life, Long, and euer happie, to the high and Mighty Princesse of England Elizabeth.
Flourish. Enter King and Guard.
Cran. And to your Royall Grace, & the good Queen, My Noble Partners, and my selfe thus pray All comfort, ioy in this most gracious Lady, Heauen euer laid vp to make Parents happy, May hourely fall vpon ye