Document:  All > Shakespeare > Histories > King Henry VIII > Act V, scene V

	[Enter trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord
	Mayor, Garter, CRANMER, NORFOLK with his marshal's
	staff, 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, &c., 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!

	[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VIII and Guard]

CRANMER: [Kneeling] And to 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 ye!

KING HENRY VIII: Thank you, good lord archbishop:
	What is her name?

CRANMER:                   Elizabeth.

KING HENRY VIII: Stand up, lord.

	[KING HENRY VIII kisses the child]

	With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee!
	Into whose hand I give thy life.


KING HENRY VIII: My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal:
	I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady,
	When she has so much English.

CRANMER: Let me speak, sir,
	For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
	Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em 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: Saba was never
	More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
	Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces,
	That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
	With all the virtues that attend the good,
	Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse her,
	Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:
	She shall be loved and fear'd: her own shall bless her;
	Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
	And hang their heads with 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.
	Nor shall this peace sleep with her: but as when
	The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
	Her ashes new create another heir,
	As great in admiration as herself;
	So shall she leave her blessedness to one,
	When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness,
	Who from the sacred ashes of her honour
	Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was,
	And so stand fix'd: peace, plenty, love, truth, terror,
	That were the servants to this chosen infant,
	Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him:
	Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
	His honour and the greatness of his name
	Shall be, and make new nations: he shall flourish,
	And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
	To all the plains about him: our children's children
	Shall see this, and bless heaven.

KING HENRY VIII: Thou speakest wonders.

CRANMER: 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,
	She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin,
	A most unspotted lily shall she pass
	To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her.

KING HENRY VIII: O lord archbishop,
	Thou hast made me now a man! never, before
	This happy child, did I get any thing:
	This oracle of comfort has so pleased me,
	That when I am in heaven I shall desire
	To see 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 beholding;
	I have received much honour by your presence,
	And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords:
	Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank ye,
	She will be sick else. This day, no man think
	Has business at his house; for all shall stay:
	This little one shall make it holiday.




	'Tis ten to one this play can never please
	All that are here: some come to take their ease,
	And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
	We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear,
	They'll say 'tis naught: others, to hear the city
	Abused extremely, and to cry 'That's witty!'
	Which we have not done neither: that, I fear,
	All the expected good we're like to hear
	For this play at this time, is only in
	The merciful construction of good women;
	For such a one we show'd 'em: if they smile,
	And say 'twill do, I know, within a while
	All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
	If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap.

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