A Street in Westminster |
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Enter two Gentlemen, meeting. |
| First Gen. You're well met once again. |
| Sec. Gen. So are you. |
| First Gen. You come to take your stand here, and behold |
| The Lady Anne pass from her coronation? |
| Sec. Gen. 'Tis all my business. At our last encounter |
| The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial. |
| First Gen. 'Tis very true: but that time offer'd sorrow; |
| This, general joy. |
| Sec. Gen. 'Tis well: the citizens, |
| I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds, |
| As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward, |
| In celebration of this day with shows, |
| Pageants, and sights of honour. |
| First Gen. Never greater; |
| Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir. |
| Sec. Gen. May I be bold to ask what that contains, |
| That paper in your hand? |
| First Gen. Yes; 'tis the list |
| Of those that claim their offices this day |
| By custom of the coronation. |
| The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims |
| To be high-steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk, |
| He to be earl marshal: you may read the rest. |
| Sec. Gen. I thank you, sir: had I not known those customs, |
| I should have been beholding to your paper. |
| But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine, |
| The princess dowager? how goes her business? |
| First Gen. That I can tell you too. The Archbishop |
| Of Canterbury, accompanied with other |
| Learned and reverend fathers of his order, |
| Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off |
| From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to which |
| She was often cited by them, but appear'd not: |
| And, to be short, for not appearance and |
| The king's late scruple, by the main assent |
| Of all these learned men she was divorc'd, |
| And the late marriage made of none effect: |
| Since which she was remov'd to Kimbolton, |
| Where she remains now sick. |
| Sec. Gen. Alas! good lady! [Trumpets. |
| The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming. [Hautboys. |
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THE ORDER OF THE CORONATION. |
| |
A lively flourish of trumpets. |
- Two Judges.
- Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before him.
- Choristers, singing. [Music.
- Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head a gilt copper crown.
- MARQUESS DORSET, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the EARL OF SURREY, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet. Collars of SS.
- DUKE OF SUFFOLK, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as high-steward. With him, the DUKE OF NORFOLK, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS.
- A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; under it, the QUEEN in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side of her, the BISHOPS OF LONDON and WINCHESTER.
- The old DUCHESS OF NORFOLK, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the QUEEN'S train.
- Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold without flowers.
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They pass over the stage in order and state. |
| Sec. Gen. A royal train, believe me. These I know; |
| Who's that that bears the sceptre? |
| First Gen. Marquess Dorset: |
| And that the Earl of Surrey with the rod. |
| Sec. Gen. A bold brave gentleman. That should be |
| The Duke of Suffolk? |
| First Gen. 'Tis the same; high-steward. |
| Sec. Gen. And that my Lord of Norfolk? |
| First Gen. Yes. |
| Sec. Gen. [Looking on the QUEEN.] Heaven bless thee! |
| Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on. |
| Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel; |
| Our king has all the Indies in his arms, |
| And more and richer, when he strains that lady: |
| I cannot blame his conscience. |
| First Gen. They that bear |
| The cloth of honour over her, are four barons |
| Of the Cinque-ports. |
| Sec. Gen. Those men are happy; and so are all are near her. |
| I take it, she that carries up the train |
| Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk. |
| First Gen. It is; and all the rest are countesses. |
| Sec. Gen. Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed; |
| And sometimes falling ones. |
| First Gen. No more of that. [Exit Procession, with a great flourish of trumpets. |
| |
Enter a third Gentleman. |
| God save you, sir! Where have you been broiling? |
| Third Gen. Among the crowd i' the Abbey; where a finger |
| Could not be wedg'd in more: I am stifled |
| With the mere rankness of their joy. |
| Sec. Gen. You saw |
| The ceremony? |
| Third Gen. That I did. |
| First Gen. How was it? |
| Third Gen. Well worth the seeing. |
| Sec. Gen. Good sir, speak it to us. |
| Third Gen. As well as I am able. The rich stream |
| Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen |
| To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off |
| A distance from her; while her Grace sat down |
| To rest awhile, some half an hour or so, |
| In a rich chair of state, opposing freely |
| The beauty of her person to the people. |
| Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman |
| That ever lay by man: which when the people |
| Had the full view of, such a noise arose |
| As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, |
| As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks,— |
| Doublets, I think,—flew up; and had their faces |
| Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy |
| I never saw before. Great-bellied women, |
| That had not half a week to go, like rams |
| In the old time of war, would shake the press, |
| And make 'em reel before them. No man living |
| Could say, 'This is my wife,' there; all were woven |
| So strangely in one piece. |
| Sec. Gen. But, what follow'd? |
| Third Gen. At length her Grace rose, and with modest paces |
| Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and, saint-like, |
| Cast her fair eyes to heaven and pray'd devoutly. |
| Then rose again and bow'd her to the people: |
| When by the Archbishop of Canterbury |
| She had all the royal makings of a queen; |
| As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown, |
| The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems |
| Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir, |
| With all the choicest music of the kingdom, |
| Together sung Te Deum. So she parted, |
| And with the same full state pac'd back again |
| To York-place, where the feast is held. |
| First Gen. Sir, |
| You must no more call it York-place, that's past; |
| For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost: |
| 'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall. |
| Third Gen. I know it; |
| But 'tis so lately alter'd that the old name |
| Is fresh about me. |
| Sec. Gen. What two reverend bishops |
| Were those that went on each side of the queen? |
| Third Gen. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one of Winchester,— |
| Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,— |
| The other, London. |
| Sec. Gen. He of Winchester |
| Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, |
| The virtuous Cranmer. |
| Third Gen. All the land knows that: |
| However, yet there's no great breach; when it comes, |
| Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. |
| Sec. Gen. Who may that be, I pray you? |
| Third Gen. Thomas Cromwell: |
| A man in much esteem with the king, and truly |
| A worthy friend. The king |
| Has made him master o' the jewel house, |
| And one, already, of the privy-council. |
| Sec. Gen. He will deserve more. |
| Third Gen. Yes, without all doubt. |
| Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which |
| Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests: |
| Something I can command. As I walk thither, |
| I'll tell ye more. |
| Both. You may command us, sir. [Exeunt. |
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