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 CRANMER.[Kneeling]And to your royal Grace and the |
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| good Queen! |
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| My noble partners and myself thus pray: |
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| All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady, |
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| Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy, |
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| May hourly fall upon ye! |
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| KING. Thank you, good Lord Archbishop. |
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| What is her name? |
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| CRANMER. Elizabeth. |
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| KING. Stand up, lord.[The KING kisses the child] |
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| With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee! |
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| Into whose hand I give thy life. |
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| CRANMER. Amen. |
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| KING. My noble gossips, y'have been too prodigal; |
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| I thank ye heartily. So shall this lady, |
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| When she has so much English. |
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| CRANMER. Let me speak, sir, |
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| For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter |
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| Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth. |
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| This royal infant—heaven still move about her!— |
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| Though in her cradle, yet now promises |
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| Upon this land a thousand blessings, |
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| Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be— |
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| But few now living can behold that goodness— |
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| A pattern to all princes living with her, |
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| And all that shall succeed. Saba was never |
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| More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue |
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| Than this pure soul shall be. All princely graces |
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| That mould up such a mighty piece as this is, |
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| With all the virtues that attend the good, |
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| Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse her, |
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| Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her; |
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| She shall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own shall bless her: |
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| Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, |
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| And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her; |
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| In her days every man shall eat in safety |
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| Under his own vine what he plants, and sing |
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| The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours. |
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| God shall be truly known; and those about her |
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| From her shall read the perfect ways of honour, |
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| And by those claim their greatness, not by blood. |
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| Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but as when |
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| The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix |
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| Her ashes new create another heir |
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| As great in admiration as herself, |
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| So shall she leave her blessedness to one— |
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| When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness— |
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| Who from the sacred ashes of her honour |
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| Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was, |
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| And so stand fix'd. Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror, |
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| That were the servants to this chosen infant, |
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| Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him; |
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| Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, |
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| His honour and the greatness of his name |
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| Shall be, and make new nations; he shall flourish, |
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| And like a mountain cedar reach his branches |
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| To all the plains about him; our children's children |
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| Shall see this and bless heaven. |
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| KING. Thou speakest wonders. |
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| CRANMER. She shall be, to the happiness of England, |
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| An aged princess; many days shall see her, |
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| And yet no day without a deed to crown it. |
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| Would I had known no more! But she must die— |
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| She must, the saints must have her—yet a virgin; |
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| A most unspotted lily shall she pass |
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| To th' ground, and all the world shall mourn her. |
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| KING. O Lord Archbishop, |
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| Thou hast made me now a man; never before |
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| This happy child did I get anything. |
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| This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me |
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| That when I am in heaven I shall desire |
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| To see what this child does, and praise my Maker. |
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| I thank ye all. To you, my good Lord Mayor, |
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| And you, good brethren, I am much beholding; |
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| I have receiv'd much honour by your presence, |
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| And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords; |
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| Ye must all see the Queen, and she must thank ye, |
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| She will be sick else. This day, no man think |
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| Has business at his house; for all shall stay. |
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| This little one shall make it holiday. |
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| Exeunt |
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