1 Sir,
You must no more call it Yorke-place, that's past:
For since the Cardinall fell, that Titles lost,
'Tis now the Kings, and call'd White-Hall

3 I know it: But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name Is fresh about me

2 What two Reuerend Byshops Were those that went on each side of the Queene? 3 Stokeley and Gardiner, the one of Winchester, Newly preferr'd from the Kings Secretary: The other London

2 He of Winchester Is held no great good louer of the Archbishops, The vertuous Cranmer

3 All the Land knowes that: How euer, yet there is no great breach, when it comes Cranmer will finde a Friend will not shrinke from him

2 Who may that be, I pray you

   3 Thomas Cromwell,
A man in much esteeme with th' King, and truly
A worthy Friend. The King ha's made him
Master o'th' Iewell House,
And one already of the Priuy Councell

2 He will deserue more

   3 Yes without all doubt.
Come Gentlemen, ye shall go my way,
Which is to'th Court, and there ye shall be my Guests:
Something I can command. As I walke thither,
Ile tell ye more

Both. You may command vs Sir.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Katherine Dowager, sicke, lead betweene Griffith, her
Gentleman
Vsher, and Patience her Woman.

  Grif. How do's your Grace?
  Kath. O Griffith, sicke to death:
My Legges like loaden Branches bow to'th' Earth,
Willing to leaue their burthen: Reach a Chaire,
So now (me thinkes) I feele a little ease.
Did'st thou not tell me Griffith, as thou lead'st mee,
That the great Childe of Honor, Cardinall Wolsey
Was dead?
  Grif. Yes Madam: but I thinke your Grace
Out of the paine you suffer'd, gaue no eare too't

   Kath. Pre'thee good Griffith, tell me how he dy'de.
If well, he stept before me happily
For my example

   Grif. Well, the voyce goes Madam,
For after the stout Earle Northumberland
Arrested him at Yorke, and brought him forward
As a man sorely tainted, to his Answer,
He fell sicke sodainly, and grew so ill
He could not sit his Mule

Kath. Alas poore man

   Grif. At last, with easie Rodes, he came to Leicester,
Lodg'd in the Abbey; where the reuerend Abbot
With all his Couent, honourably receiu'd him;
To whom he gaue these words. O Father Abbot,
An old man, broken with the stormes of State,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye:
Giue him a little earth for Charity.
So went to bed; where eagerly his sicknesse
Pursu'd him still, and three nights after this,
About the houre of eight, which he himselfe
Foretold should be his last, full of Repentance,
Continuall Meditations, Teares, and Sorrowes,
He gaue his Honors to the world agen,
His blessed part to Heauen, and slept in peace

   Kath. So may he rest,
His Faults lye gently on him:
Yet thus farre Griffith, giue me leaue to speake him,
And yet with Charity. He was a man
Of an vnbounded stomacke, euer ranking
Himselfe with Princes. One that by suggestion
Ty'de all the Kingdome. Symonie, was faire play,
His owne Opinion was his Law. I'th' presence
He would say vntruths, and be euer double
Both in his words, and meaning. He was neuer
(But where he meant to Ruine) pittifull.
His Promises, were as he then was, Mighty:
But his performance, as he is now, Nothing:
Of his owne body he was ill, and gaue
The Clergy ill example

   Grif. Noble Madam:
Mens euill manners, liue in Brasse, their Vertues
We write in Water. May it please your Highnesse
To heare me speake his good now?
  Kath. Yes good Griffith,
I were malicious else

   Grif. This Cardinall,
Though from an humble Stocke, vndoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much Honor. From his Cradle
He was a Scholler, and a ripe, and good one:
Exceeding wise, faire spoken, and perswading:
Lofty, and sowre to them that lou'd him not:
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as Summer.
And though he were vnsatisfied in getting,
(Which was a sinne) yet in bestowing, Madam,
He was most Princely: Euer witnesse for him
Those twinnes of Learning, that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich and Oxford: one of which, fell with him,
Vnwilling to out-liue the good that did it.
The other (though vnfinish'd) yet so Famous,
So excellent in Art, and still so rising,
That Christendome shall euer speake his Vertue.
His Ouerthrow, heap'd Happinesse vpon him:
For then, and not till then, he felt himselfe,
And found the Blessednesse of being little.
And to adde greater Honors to his Age
Then man could giue him; he dy'de, fearing God

   Kath. After my death, I wish no other Herald,
No other speaker of my liuing Actions,
To keepe mine Honor, from Corruption,
But such an honest Chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated Liuing, thou hast made mee
With thy Religious Truth, and Modestie,
(Now in his Ashes) Honor: Peace be with him.
Patience, be neere me still, and set me lower,
I haue not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
Cause the Musitians play me that sad note
I nam'd my Knell; whil'st I sit meditating
On that Coelestiall Harmony I go too.

Sad and solemne Musicke.

  Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet,
For feare we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.

The Vision. Enter solemnely tripping one after another, sixe Personages, clad in white Robes, wearing on their heades Garlands of Bayes, and golden Vizards on their faces, Branches of Bayes or Palme in their hands. They first Conge vnto her, then Dance: and at certaine Changes, the first two hold a spare Garland ouer her Head, at which the other foure make reuerend Curtsies. Then the two that held the Garland, deliuer the same to the other next two, who obserue the same order in their Changes, and holding the Garland ouer her head. Which done, they deliuer the same Garland to the last two: who likewise obserue the same Order. At which (as it were by inspiration) she makes (in her sleepe) signes of reioycing, and holdeth vp her hands to heauen. And so, in their Dancing vanish, carrying the Garland with them. The Musicke continues.

  Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?
And leaue me heere in wretchednesse, behinde ye?
  Grif. Madam, we are heere

   Kath. It is not you I call for,
Saw ye none enter since I slept?
  Grif. None Madam

   Kath. No? Saw you not euen now a blessed Troope
Inuite me to a Banquet, whose bright faces
Cast thousand beames vpon me, like the Sun?
They promis'd me eternall Happinesse,
And brought me Garlands (Griffith) which I feele
I am not worthy yet to weare: I shall assuredly

   Grif. I am most ioyfull Madam, such good dreames
Possesse your Fancy

   Kath. Bid the Musicke leaue,
They are harsh and heauy to me.

Musicke ceases.

  Pati. Do you note
How much her Grace is alter'd on the sodaine?
How long her face is drawne? How pale she lookes,
And of an earthy cold? Marke her eyes?
  Grif. She is going Wench. Pray, pray

   Pati. Heauen comfort her.
Enter a Messenger.

  Mes. And't like your Grace -
  Kath. You are a sawcy Fellow,
Deserue we no more Reuerence?
  Grif. You are too blame,
Knowing she will not loose her wonted Greatnesse
To vse so rude behauiour. Go too, kneele

   Mes. I humbly do entreat your Highnesse pardon,
My hast made me vnmannerly. There is staying
A Gentleman sent from the King, to see you

   Kath. Admit him entrance Griffith. But this Fellow
Let me ne're see againe.

Exit Messeng.

Enter Lord Capuchius.

If my sight faile not,
You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
My Royall Nephew, and your name Capuchius

Cap. Madam the same. Your Seruant

   Kath. O my Lord,
The Times and Titles now are alter'd strangely
With me, since first you knew me.
But I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?
  Cap. Noble Lady,
First mine owne seruice to your Grace, the next
The Kings request, that I would visit you,
Who greeues much for your weaknesse, and by me
Sends you his Princely Commendations,
And heartily entreats you take good comfort

   Kath. O my good Lord, that comfort comes too late,
'Tis like a Pardon after Execution;
That gentle Physicke giuen in time, had cur'd me:
But now I am past all Comforts heere, but Prayers.
How does his Highnesse?
  Cap. Madam, in good health

   Kath. So may he euer do, and euer flourish,
When I shall dwell with Wormes, and my poore name
Banish'd the Kingdome. Patience, is that Letter
I caus'd you write, yet sent away?
  Pat. No Madam

   Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliuer
This to my Lord the King

Cap. Most willing Madam

   Kath. In which I haue commended to his goodnesse
The Modell of our chaste loues: his yong daughter,
The dewes of Heauen fall thicke in Blessings on her,
Beseeching him to giue her vertuous breeding.
She is yong, and of a Noble modest Nature,
I hope she will deserue well; and a little
To loue her for her Mothers sake, that lou'd him,
Heauen knowes how deerely.
My next poore Petition,
Is, that his Noble Grace would haue some pittie
Vpon my wretched women, that so long
Haue follow'd both my Fortunes, faithfully,
Of which there is not one, I dare auow
(And now I should not lye) but will deserue
For Vertue, and true Beautie of the Soule,
For honestie, and decent Carriage
A right good Husband (let him be a Noble)
And sure those men are happy that shall haue 'em.
The last is for my men, they are the poorest,
(But pouerty could neuer draw 'em from me)
That they may haue their wages, duly paid 'em,
And something ouer to remember me by.
If Heauen had pleas'd to haue giuen me longer life
And able meanes, we had not parted thus.
These are the whole Contents, and good my Lord,
By that you loue the deerest in this world,
As you wish Christian peace to soules departed,
Stand these poore peoples Friend, and vrge the King
To do me this last right

   Cap. By Heauen I will,
Or let me loose the fashion of a man

   Kath. I thanke you honest Lord. Remember me
In all humilitie vnto his Highnesse:
Say his long trouble now is passing
Out of this world. Tell him in death I blest him
(For so I will) mine eyes grow dimme. Farewell
My Lord. Griffith farewell. Nay Patience,
You must not leaue me yet. I must to bed,
Call in more women. When I am dead, good Wench,
Let me be vs'd with Honor; strew me ouer
With Maiden Flowers, that all the world may know
I was a chaste Wife, to my Graue: Embalme me,
Then lay me forth (although vnqueen'd) yet like
A Queene, and Daughter to a King enterre me.
I can no more.

Exeunt. leading Katherine.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Gardiner Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a Torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Louell.

Gard. It's one a clocke Boy, is't not

Boy. It hath strooke

   Gard. These should be houres for necessities,
Not for delights: Times to repayre our Nature
With comforting repose, and not for vs
To waste these times. Good houre of night Sir Thomas:
Whether so late?
  Lou. Came you from the King, my Lord?
  Gar. I did Sir Thomas, and left him at Primero
With the Duke of Suffolke

   Lou. I must to him too
Before he go to bed. Ile take my leaue

   Gard. Not yet Sir Thomas Louell: what's the matter?
It seemes you are in hast: and if there be
No great offence belongs too't, giue your Friend
Some touch of your late businesse: Affaires that walke
(As they say Spirits do) at midnight, haue
In them a wilder Nature, then the businesse
That seekes dispatch by day

   Lou. My Lord, I loue you;
And durst commend a secret to your eare
Much waightier then this worke. The Queens in Labor
They say in great Extremity, and fear'd
Shee'l with the Labour, end

   Gard. The fruite she goes with
I pray for heartily, that it may finde
Good time, and liue: but for the Stocke Sir Thomas,
I wish it grubb'd vp now

   Lou. Me thinkes I could
Cry the Amen, and yet my Conscience sayes
Shee's a good Creature, and sweet-Ladie do's
Deserue our better wishes

   Gard. But Sir, Sir,
Heare me Sir Thomas, y'are a Gentleman
Of mine owne way. I know you Wise, Religious,
And let me tell you, it will ne're be well,
'Twill not Sir Thomas Louell, tak't of me,
Till Cranmer, Cromwel, her two hands, and shee
Sleepe in their Graues

   Louell. Now Sir, you speake of two
The most remark'd i'th' Kingdome: as for Cromwell,
Beside that of the Iewell-House, is made Master
O'th' Rolles, and the Kings Secretary. Further Sir,
Stands in the gap and Trade of moe Preferments,
With which the Lime will loade him. Th' Archbyshop
Is the Kings hand, and tongue, and who dare speak
One syllable against him?
  Gard. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
There are that Dare, and I my selfe haue ventur'd
To speake my minde of him: and indeed this day,
Sir (I may tell it you) I thinke I haue
Incenst the Lords o'th' Councell, that he is
(For so I know he is, they know he is)
A most Arch-Heretique, a Pestilence
That does infect the Land: with which, they moued
Haue broken with the King, who hath so farre
Giuen eare to our Complaint, of his great Grace,
And Princely Care, fore-seeing those fell Mischiefes,
Our Reasons layd before him, hath commanded
To morrow Morning to the Councell Boord
He be conuented. He's a ranke weed Sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your Affaires
I hinder you too long: Good night, Sir Thomas.

Exit Gardiner and Page.

  Lou. Many good nights, my Lord, I rest your seruant.
Enter King and Suffolke.

  King. Charles, I will play no more to night,
My mindes not on't, you are too hard for me

Suff. Sir, I did neuer win of you before

   King. But little Charles,
Nor shall not when my Fancies on my play.
Now Louel, from the Queene what is the Newes

   Lou. I could not personally deliuer to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman,
I sent your Message, who return'd her thankes
In the great'st humblenesse, and desir'd your Highnesse
Most heartily to pray for her

   King. What say'st thou? Ha?
To pray for her? What is she crying out?
  Lou. So said her woman, and that her suffrance made
Almost each pang, a death

King. Alas good Lady

   Suf. God safely quit her of her Burthen, and
With gentle Trauaile, to the gladding of
Your Highnesse with an Heire

   King. 'Tis midnight Charles,
Prythee to bed, and in thy Prayres remember
Th' estate of my poore Queene. Leaue me alone,
For I must thinke of that, which company
Would not be friendly too

   Suf. I wish your Highnesse
A quiet night, and my good Mistris will
Remember in my Prayers

King. Charles good night.

Exit Suffolke.

Well Sir, what followes?
Enter Sir Anthony Denny.

  Den. Sir, I haue brought my Lord the Arch-byshop,
As you commanded me

   King. Ha? Canterbury?
  Den. I my good Lord

   King. 'Tis true: where is he Denny?
  Den. He attends your Highnesse pleasure

King. Bring him to Vs

   Lou. This is about that, which the Byshop spake,
I am happily come hither.
Enter Cranmer and Denny.

King. Auoyd the Gallery.

Louel seemes to stay.

Ha? I haue said. Be gone.
What?

Exeunt. Louell and Denny.

  Cran. I am fearefull: Wherefore frownes he thus?
'Tis his Aspect of Terror. All's not well

   King. How now my Lord?
You do desire to know wherefore
I sent for you

   Cran. It is my dutie
T' attend your Highnesse pleasure

   King. Pray you arise
My good and gracious Lord of Canterburie:
Come, you and I must walke a turne together:
I haue Newes to tell you.
Come, come, giue me your hand.
Ah my good Lord, I greeue at what I speake,
And am right sorrie to repeat what followes.
I haue, and most vnwillingly of late
Heard many greeuous, I do say my Lord
Greeuous complaints of you; which being consider'd,
Haue mou'd Vs, and our Councell, that you shall
This Morning come before vs, where I know
You cannot with such freedome purge your selfe,
But that till further Triall, in those Charges
Which will require your Answer, you must take
Your patience to you, and be well contented
To make your house our Towre: you, a Brother of vs
It fits we thus proceed, or else no witnesse
Would come against you

   Cran. I humbly thanke your Highnesse,
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most throughly to be winnowed, where my Chaffe
And Corne shall flye asunder. For I know
There's none stands vnder more calumnious tongues,
Then I my selfe, poore man

   King. Stand vp, good Canterbury,
Thy Truth, and thy Integrity is rooted
In vs thy Friend. Giue me thy hand, stand vp,
Prythee let's walke. Now by my Holydame,
What manner of man are you? My Lord, I look'd
You would haue giuen me your Petition, that
I should haue tane some paines, to bring together
Your selfe, and your Accusers, and to haue heard you
Without indurance further

   Cran. Most dread Liege,
The good I stand on, is my Truth and Honestie:
If they shall faile, I with mine Enemies
Will triumph o're my person, which I waigh not,
Being of those Vertues vacant. I feare nothing
What can be said against me

   King. Know you not
How your state stands i'th' world, with the whole world?
Your Enemies are many, and not small; their practises
Must beare the same proportion, and not euer
The Iustice and the Truth o'th' question carries
The dew o'th' Verdict with it; at what ease
Might corrupt mindes procure, Knaues as corrupt
To sweare against you: Such things haue bene done.
You are Potently oppos'd, and with a Malice
Of as great Size. Weene you of better lucke,
I meane in periur'd Witnesse, then your Master,
Whose Minister you are, whiles heere he liu'd
Vpon this naughty Earth? Go too, go too,
You take a Precepit for no leape of danger,
And woe your owne destruction

   Cran. God, and your Maiesty
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me

   King. Be of good cheere,
They shall no more preuaile, then we giue way too:
Keepe comfort to you, and this Morning see
You do appeare before them. If they shall chance
In charging you with matters, to commit you:
The best perswasions to the contrary
Faile not to vse, and with what vehemencie
Th' occasion shall instruct you. If intreaties
Will render you no remedy, this Ring
Deliuer them, and your Appeale to vs
There make before them. Looke, the goodman weeps:
He's honest on mine Honor. Gods blest Mother,
I sweare he is true-hearted, and a soule
None better in my Kingdome. Get you gone,
And do as I haue bid you.

Exit Cranmer.

He ha's strangled his Language in his teares.
Enter Olde Lady.

  Gent. within. Come backe: what meane you?
  Lady. Ile not come backe, the tydings that I bring
Will make my boldnesse, manners. Now good Angels
Fly o're thy Royall head, and shade thy person
Vnder their blessed wings

   King. Now by thy lookes
I gesse thy Message. Is the Queene deliuer'd?
Say I, and of a boy

   Lady. I, I my Liege,
And of a louely Boy: the God of heauen
Both now, and euer blesse her: 'Tis a Gyrle
Promises Boyes heereafter. Sir, your Queen
Desires your Visitation, and to be
Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you,
As Cherry, is to Cherry

King. Louell

Lou. Sir

   King. Giue her an hundred Markes.
Ile to the Queene.

Exit King.

  Lady. An hundred Markes? By this light, Ile ha more.
An ordinary Groome is for such payment.
I will haue more, or scold it out of him.
Said I for this, the Gyrle was like to him? Ile
Haue more, or else vnsay't: and now, while 'tis hot,
Ile put it to the issue.

Exit Ladie.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Cranmer, Archbyshop of Canterbury.

  Cran. I hope I am not too late, and yet the Gentleman
That was sent to me from the Councell, pray'd me
To make great hast. All fast? What meanes this? Hoa?
Who waites there? Sure you know me?
Enter Keeper.

  Keep. Yes, my Lord:
But yet I cannot helpe you

   Cran. Why?
  Keep. Your Grace must waight till you be call'd for.
Enter Doctor Buts.

Cran. So

   Buts. This is a Peere of Malice: I am glad
I came this way so happily. The King
Shall vnderstand it presently.

Exit Buts

  Cran. 'Tis Buts.
The Kings Physitian, as he past along
How earnestly he cast his eyes vpon me:
Pray heauen he found not my disgrace: for certaine
This is of purpose laid by some that hate me,
(God turne their hearts, I neuer sought their malice)
To quench mine Honor; they would shame to make me
Wait else at doore: a fellow Councellor
'Mong Boyes, Groomes, and Lackeyes.
But their pleasures
Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
Enter the King, and Buts, at a Windowe aboue.

Buts. Ile shew your Grace the strangest sight

   King. What's that Buts?
  Butts. I thinke your Highnesse saw this many a day

   Kin. Body a me: where is it?
  Butts. There my Lord:
The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
Who holds his State at dore 'mongst Purseuants,
Pages, and Foot-boyes

   Kin. Ha? 'Tis he indeed.
Is this the Honour they doe one another?
'Tis well there's one aboue 'em yet; I had thought
They had parted so much honesty among 'em,
At least good manners; as not thus to suffer
A man of his Place, and so neere our fauour
To dance attendance on their Lordships pleasures,
And at the dore too, like a Post with Packets:
By holy Mary (Butts) there's knauery;
Let 'em alone, and draw the Curtaine close:
We shall heare more anon.

A Councell Table brought in with Chayres and Stooles, and placed
vnder
the State. Enter Lord Chancellour, places himselfe at the vpper end
of the
Table, on the left hand: A Seate being left void aboue him, as for
Canterburies Seate. Duke of Suffolke, Duke of Norfolke, Surrey,
Lord
Chamberlaine, Gardiner, seat themselues in Order on each side.
Cromwell at
lower end, as Secretary.

  Chan. Speake to the businesse, M[aster]. Secretary;
Why are we met in Councell?
  Crom. Please your Honours,
The chiefe cause concernes his Grace of Canterbury

   Gard. Ha's he had knowledge of it?
  Crom. Yes

   Norf. Who waits there?
  Keep. Without my Noble Lords?
  Gard. Yes

   Keep. My Lord Archbishop:
And ha's done halfe an houre to know your pleasures

Chan. Let him come in

Keep. Your Grace may enter now.

Cranmer approches the Councell Table.

  Chan. My good Lord Archbishop, I'm very sorry
To sit heere at this present, and behold
That Chayre stand empty: But we all are men
In our owne natures fraile, and capable
Of our flesh, few are Angels; out of which frailty
And want of wisedome, you that best should teach vs,
Haue misdemean'd your selfe, and not a little:
Toward the King first, then his Lawes, in filling
The whole Realme, by your teaching & your Chaplaines
(For so we are inform'd) with new opinions,
Diuers and dangerous; which are Heresies;
And not reform'd, may proue pernicious

   Gard. Which Reformation must be sodaine too
My Noble Lords; for those that tame wild Horses,
Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle;
But stop their mouthes with stubborn Bits & spurre 'em,
Till they obey the mannage. If we suffer
Out of our easinesse and childish pitty
To one mans Honour, this contagious sicknesse;
Farewell all Physicke: and what followes then?
Commotions, vprores, with a generall Taint
Of the whole State; as of late dayes our neighbours,
The vpper Germany can deerely witnesse:
Yet freshly pittied in our memories

   Cran. My good Lords; Hitherto, in all the Progresse
Both of my Life and Office, I haue labour'd,
And with no little study, that my teaching
And the strong course of my Authority,
Might goe one way, and safely; and the end
Was euer to doe well: nor is there liuing,
(I speake it with a single heart, my Lords)
A man that more detests, more stirres against,
Both in his priuate Conscience, and his place,
Defacers of a publique peace then I doe:
Pray Heauen the King may neuer find a heart
With lesse Allegeance in it. Men that make
Enuy, and crooked malice, nourishment;
Dare bite the best. I doe beseech your, Lordships,
That in this case of Iustice, my Accusers,
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
And freely vrge against me

   Suff. Nay, my Lord,
That cannot be; you are a Counsellor,
And by that vertue no man dare accuse you

   Gard. My Lord, because we haue busines of more moment,
We will be short with you. 'Tis his Highnesse pleasure
And our consent, for better tryall of you,
From hence you be committed to the Tower,
Where being but a priuate man againe,
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,
More then (I feare) you are prouided for

   Cran. Ah my good Lord of Winchester: I thanke you,
You are alwayes my good Friend, if your will passe,
I shall both finde your Lordship, Iudge and Iuror,
You are so mercifull. I see your end,
'Tis my vndoing. Loue and meekenesse, Lord
Become a Churchman, better then Ambition:
Win straying Soules with modesty againe,
Cast none away: That I shall cleere my selfe,
Lay all the weight ye can vpon my patience,
I make as little doubt as you doe conscience,
In doing dayly wrongs. I could say more,
But reuerence to your calling, makes me modest

   Gard. My Lord, my Lord, you are a Sectary,
That's the plaine truth; your painted glosse discouers
To men that vnderstand you, words and weaknesse

   Crom. My Lord of Winchester, y'are a little,
By your good fauour, too sharpe; Men so Noble,
How euer faulty, yet should finde respect
For what they haue beene: 'tis a cruelty,
To load a falling man

   Gard. Good M[aster]. Secretary,
I cry your Honour mercie; you may worst
Of all this Table say so

   Crom. Why my Lord?
  Gard. Doe not I know you for a Fauourer
Of this new Sect? ye are not sound

   Crom. Not sound?
  Gard. Not sound I say

   Crom. Would you were halfe so honest:
Mens prayers then would seeke you, not their feares

Gard. I shall remember this bold Language

   Crom. Doe.
Remember your bold life too

   Cham. This is too much;
Forbeare for shame my Lords

Gard. I haue done

Crom. And I

   Cham. Then thus for you my Lord, it stands agreed
I take it, by all voyces: That forthwith,
You be conuaid to th' Tower a Prisoner;
There to remaine till the Kings further pleasure
Be knowne vnto vs: are you all agreed Lords

All. We are

   Cran. Is there no other way of mercy,
But I must needs to th' Tower my Lords?
  Gard. What other,
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome:
Let some o'th' Guard be ready there.
Enter the Guard.

  Cran. For me?
Must I goe like a Traytor thither?
  Gard. Receiue him,
And see him safe i'th' Tower

   Cran. Stay good my Lords,
I haue a little yet to say. Looke there my Lords,
By vertue of that Ring, I take my cause
Out of the gripes of cruell men, and giue it
To a most Noble Iudge, the King my Maister

Cham. This is the Kings Ring

Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit

   Suff. 'Ts the right Ring, by Heau'n: I told ye all,
When we first put this dangerous stone a rowling,
'Twold fall vpon our selues

   Norf. Doe you thinke my Lords
The King will suffer but the little finger
Of this man to be vex'd?
  Cham. Tis now too certaine;
How much more is his Life in value with him?
Would I were fairely out on't

   Crom. My mind gaue me,
In seeking tales and Informations
Against this man, whose honesty the Diuell
And his Disciples onely enuy at,
Ye blew the fire that burnes ye: now haue at ye.
Enter King frowning on them, takes his Seate.

  Gard. Dread Soueraigne,
How much are we bound to Heauen,
In dayly thankes, that gaue vs such a Prince;
Not onely good and wise, but most religious:
One that in all obedience, makes the Church
The cheefe ayme of his Honour, and to strengthen
That holy duty out of deare respect,
His Royall selfe in Iudgement comes to heare
The cause betwixt her, and this great offender

   Kin. You were euer good at sodaine Commendations,
Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not
To heare such flattery now, and in my presence
They are too thin, and base to hide offences,
To me you cannot reach. You play the Spaniell,
And thinke with wagging of your tongue to win me:
But whatsoere thou tak'st me for; I'm sure
Thou hast a cruell Nature and a bloody.
Good man sit downe: Now let me see the proudest
Hee, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
By all that's holy, he had better starue,
Then but once thinke his place becomes thee not

   Sur. May it please your Grace; -
  Kin. No Sir, it doe's not please me,
I had thought, I had had men of some vnderstanding,
And wisedome of my Councell; but I finde none:
Was it discretion Lords, to let this man,
This good man (few of you deserue that Title)
This honest man, wait like a lowsie Foot-boy
At Chamber dore? and one, as great as you are?
Why, what a shame was this? Did my Commission
Bid ye so farre forget your selues? I gaue ye
Power, as he was a Counsellour to try him,
Not as a Groome: There's some of ye, I see,
More out of Malice then Integrity,
Would trye him to the vtmost, had ye meane,
Which ye shall neuer haue while I liue

   Chan. Thus farre
My most dread Soueraigne, may it like your Grace,
To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd
Concerning his Imprisonment, was rather
(If there be faith in men) meant for his Tryall,
And faire purgation to the world then malice,
I'm sure in me

   Kin. Well, well my Lords respect him,
Take him, and vse him well; hee's worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him, if a Prince
May be beholding to a Subiect; I
Am for his loue and seruice, so to him.
Make me no more adoe, but all embrace him;
Be friends for shame my Lords: My Lord of Canterbury
I haue a Suite which you must not deny mee.
That is, a faire young Maid that yet wants Baptisme,
You must be Godfather, and answere for her

   Cran. The greatest Monarch now aliue may glory
In such an honour: how may I deserue it,
That am a poore and humble Subiect to you?
  Kin. Come, come my Lord, you'd spare your spoones;
You shall haue two noble Partners with you: the old
Duchesse of Norfolke, and Lady Marquesse Dorset? will
these please you?
Once more my Lord of Winchester, I charge you
Embrace, and loue this man

   Gard. With a true heart,
And Brother; loue I doe it

   Cran. And let Heauen
Witnesse how deare, I hold this Confirmation

   Kin. Good Man, those ioyfull teares shew thy true hearts,
The common voyce I see is verified
Of thee, which sayes thus: Doe my Lord of Canterbury
A shrewd turne, and hee's your friend for euer:
Come Lords, we trifle time away: I long
To haue this young one made a Christian.
As I haue made ye one Lords, one remaine:
So I grow stronger, you more Honour gaine.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Noyse and Tumult within: Enter Porter and his man.

Port. You'l leaue your noyse anon ye Rascals: doe you take the Court for Parish Garden: ye rude Slaues, leaue your gaping

Within. Good M[aster]. Porter I belong to th' Larder

   Port. Belong to th' Gallowes, and be hang'd ye Rogue:
Is this a place to roare in? Fetch me a dozen Crab-tree
staues, and strong ones; these are but switches to 'em:
Ile scratch your heads; you must be seeing Christenings?
Do you looke for Ale, and Cakes heere, you rude
Raskalls?
  Man. Pray Sir be patient; 'tis as much impossible,
Vnlesse wee sweepe 'em from the dore with Cannons,
To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleepe
On May-day Morning, which will neuer be:
We may as well push against Powles as stirre 'em

   Por. How got they in, and be hang'd?
  Man. Alas I know not, how gets the Tide in?
As much as one sound Cudgell of foure foote,
(You see the poore remainder) could distribute,
I made no spare Sir

Port. You did nothing Sir

   Man. I am not Sampson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colebrand,
To mow 'em downe before me: but if I spar'd any
That had a head to hit, either young or old,
He or shee, Cuckold or Cuckold-maker:
Let me ne're hope to see a Chine againe,
And that I would not for a Cow, God saue her

   Within. Do you heare M[aster]. Porter?
  Port. I shall be with you presently, good M[aster]. Puppy,
Keepe the dore close Sirha

Man. What would you haue me doe? Por. What should you doe, But knock 'em downe by th' dozens? Is this More fields to muster in? Or haue wee some strange Indian with the great Toole, come to Court, the women so besiege vs? Bless me, what a fry of Fornication is at dore? On my Christian Conscience this one Christening will beget a thousand, here will bee Father, God-father, and all together

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.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

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

   Kin. Thanke you good Lord Archbishop:
What is her Name?
  Cran. Elizabeth

   Kin. Stand vp Lord,
With this Kisse, take my Blessing: God protect thee,
Into whose hand, I giue thy Life

Cran. Amen

   Kin. My Noble Gossips, y'haue beene too Prodigall;
I thanke ye heartily: So shall this Lady,
When she ha's so much English

   Cran. Let me speake Sir,
For Heauen now bids me; and the words I vtter,
Let none thinke Flattery; for they'l finde 'em Truth.
This Royall Infant, Heauen still moue about her;
Though in her Cradle; yet now promises
Vpon this Land a thousand thousand Blessings,
Which Time shall bring to ripenesse: She shall be,
(But few now liuing can behold that goodnesse)
A Patterne to all Princes liuing with her,
And all that shall succeed: Saba was neuer
More couetous of Wisedome, and faire Vertue
Then this pure Soule shall be. All Princely Graces
That mould vp such a mighty Piece as this is,
With all the Vertues that attend the good,
Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall Nurse her,
Holy and Heauenly thoughts still Counsell her:
She shall be lou'd and fear'd. Her owne shall blesse her;
Her Foes shake like a Field of beaten Corne,
And hang their heads with sorrow:
Good growes with her.
In her dayes, Euery Man shall eate in safety,
Vnder his owne Vine what he plants; and sing
The merry Songs of Peace to all his Neighbours.
God shall be truely knowne, and those about her,
From her shall read the perfect way of Honour,
And by those claime their greatnesse; not by Blood.
Nor shall this peace sleepe with her: But as when
The Bird of Wonder dyes, the Mayden Phoenix,
Her Ashes new create another Heyre,
As great in admiration as her selfe.
So shall she leaue her Blessednesse to One,
(When Heauen shal call her from this clowd of darknes)
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, Loue, Truth, Terror,
That were the Seruants to this chosen Infant,
Shall then be his, and like a Vine grow to him;
Where euer the bright Sunne of Heauen shall shine,
His Honour, and the greatnesse of his Name,
Shall be, and make new Nations. He shall flourish,
And like a Mountaine Cedar, reach his branches,
To all the Plaines about him: Our Childrens Children
Shall see this, and blesse Heauen

Kin. Thou speakest wonders

   Cran. She shall be to the happinesse of England,
An aged Princesse; many dayes shall see her,
And yet no day without a deed to Crowne it.
Would I had knowne no more: But she must dye,
She must, the Saints must haue her; yet a Virgin,
A most vnspotted Lilly shall she passe
To th' ground, and all the World shall mourne her

   Kin. O Lord Archbishop
Thou hast made me now a man, neuer before
This happy Child, did I get any thing.
This Oracle of comfort, ha's so pleas'd me,
That when I am in Heauen, I shall desire
To see what this Child does, and praise my Maker.
I thanke ye all. To you my good Lord Maior,
And you good Brethren, I am much beholding:
I haue receiu'd much Honour by your presence,
And ye shall find me thankfull. Lead the way Lords,
Ye must all see the Queene, and she must thanke ye,
She will be sicke els. This day, no man thinke
'Has businesse at his house; for all shall stay:
This Little-One shall make it Holy-day.

Exeunt.

  THE EPILOGVE. Tis ten to one, this Play can neuer please
All that are heere: Some come to take their ease,
And sleepe an Act or two; but those we feare
W'haue frighted with our Trumpets: so 'tis cleare,
They'l say tis naught. Others to heare the City
Abus'd extreamly, and to cry that's witty,
Which wee haue not done neither; that I feare
All the expected good w'are like to heare.
For this Play at this time, is onely in
The mercifull construction of good women,
For such a one we shew'd 'em: If they smile,
And say twill doe; I know within a while,
All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
If they hold, when their Ladies bid 'em clap.

FINIS. The Famous History of the Life of King HENRY the Eight.

The Tragedie of Coriolanus

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter a Company of Mutinous Citizens, with Staues, Clubs, and other weapons.

1. Citizen. Before we proceed any further, heare me speake

All. Speake, speake

   1.Cit. You are all resolu'd rather to dy then
to famish?
  All. Resolu'd, resolu'd

1.Cit. First you know, Caius Martius is chiefe enemy to the people

All. We know't, we know't

   1.Cit. Let vs kill him, and wee'l haue Corne at our own
price. Is't a Verdict?
  All. No more talking on't; Let it be done, away, away
  2.Cit. One word, good Citizens

1.Cit. We are accounted poore Citizens, the Patricians good: what Authority surfets one, would releeue vs. If they would yeelde vs but the superfluitie while it were wholsome, wee might guesse they releeued vs humanely: But they thinke we are too deere, the leannesse that afflicts vs, the obiect of our misery, is as an inuentory to particularize their abundance, our sufferance is a gaine to them. Let vs reuenge this with our Pikes, ere we become Rakes. For the Gods know, I speake this in hunger for Bread, not in thirst for Reuenge

2.Cit. Would you proceede especially against Caius Martius

All. Against him first: He's a very dog to the Commonalty

2.Cit. Consider you what Seruices he ha's done for his Country? 1.Cit. Very well, and could bee content to giue him good report for't, but that hee payes himselfe with beeing proud

All. Nay, but speak not maliciously

1.Cit. I say vnto you, what he hath done Famouslie, he did it to that end: though soft conscienc'd men can be content to say it was for his Countrey, he did it to please his Mother, and to be partly proud, which he is, euen to the altitude of his vertue

   2.Cit. What he cannot helpe in his Nature, you account
a Vice in him: You must in no way say he is couetous

   1.Cit. If I must not, I neede not be barren of Accusations
he hath faults (with surplus) to tyre in repetition.

Showts within.

What showts are these? The other side a'th City is risen: why stay we prating heere? To th' Capitoll

All. Come, come

   1 Cit. Soft, who comes heere?
Enter Menenius Agrippa.

2 Cit. Worthy Menenius Agrippa, one that hath alwayes lou'd the people

1 Cit. He's one honest enough, wold al the rest wer so

   Men. What work's my Countrimen in hand?
Where go you with Bats and Clubs? The matter
Speake I pray you

2 Cit. Our busines is not vnknowne to th' Senat, they haue had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, w now wee'l shew em in deeds: they say poore Suters haue strong breaths, they shal know we haue strong arms too

   Menen. Why Masters, my good Friends, mine honest
Neighbours, will you vndo your selues?
  2 Cit. We cannot Sir, we are vndone already

   Men. I tell you Friends, most charitable care
Haue the Patricians of you for your wants.
Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
Strike at the Heauen with your staues, as lift them
Against the Roman State, whose course will on
The way it takes: cracking ten thousand Curbes
Of more strong linke assunder, then can euer
Appeare in your impediment. For the Dearth,
The Gods, not the Patricians make it, and
Your knees to them (not armes) must helpe. Alacke,
You are transported by Calamity
Thether, where more attends you, and you slander
The Helmes o'th State; who care for you like Fathers,
When you curse them, as Enemies

2 Cit. Care for vs? True indeed, they nere car'd for vs yet. Suffer vs to famish, and their Store-houses cramm'd with Graine: Make Edicts for Vsurie, to support Vsurers; repeale daily any wholsome Act established against the rich, and prouide more piercing Statutes daily, to chaine vp and restraine the poore. If the Warres eate vs not vppe, they will; and there's all the loue they beare vs

   Menen. Either you must
Confesse your selues wondrous Malicious,
Or be accus'd of Folly. I shall tell you
A pretty Tale, it may be you haue heard it,
But since it serues my purpose, I will venture
To scale't a little more

   2 Citizen. Well,
Ile heare it Sir: yet you must not thinke
To fobbe off our disgrace with a tale:
But and't please you deliuer

   Men. There was a time, when all the bodies members
Rebell'd against the Belly; thus accus'd it:
That onely like a Gulfe it did remaine
I'th midd'st a th' body, idle and vnactiue,
Still cubbording the Viand, neuer bearing
Like labour with the rest, where th' other Instruments
Did see, and heare, deuise, instruct, walke, feele,
And mutually participate, did minister
Vnto the appetite; and affection common
Of the whole body, the Belly answer'd

2.Cit. Well sir, what answer made the Belly

   Men. Sir, I shall tell you with a kinde of Smile,
Which ne're came from the Lungs, but euen thus:
For looke you I may make the belly Smile,
As well as speake, it taintingly replyed
To'th' discontented Members, the mutinous parts
That enuied his receite: euen so most fitly,
As you maligne our Senators, for that
They are not such as you

   2.Cit. Your Bellies answer: What
The Kingly crown'd head, the vigilant eye,
The Counsailor Heart, the Arme our Souldier,
Our Steed the Legge, the Tongue our Trumpeter,
With other Muniments and petty helpes
In this our Fabricke, if that they-
  Men. What then? Fore me, this Fellow speakes.
What then? What then?
  2.Cit. Should by the Cormorant belly be restrain'd,
Who is the sinke a th' body

   Men. Well, what then?
  2.Cit. The former Agents, if they did complaine,
What could the Belly answer?
  Men. I will tell you,
If you'l bestow a small (of what you haue little)
Patience awhile; you'st heare the Bellies answer

2.Cit. Y'are long about it

   Men. Note me this good Friend;
Your most graue Belly was deliberate,
Not rash like his Accusers, and thus answered.
True is it my Incorporate Friends (quoth he)
That I receiue the generall Food at first
Which you do liue vpon: and fit it is,
Because I am the Store-house, and the Shop
Of the whole Body. But, if you do remember,
I send it through the Riuers of your blood
Euen to the Court, the Heart, to th' seate o'th' Braine,
And through the Crankes and Offices of man,
The strongest Nerues, and small inferiour Veines
From me receiue that naturall competencie
Whereby they liue. And though that all at once
(You my good Friends, this sayes the Belly) marke me

2.Cit. I sir, well, well

   Men. Though all at once, cannot
See what I do deliuer out to each,
Yet I can make my Awdit vp, that all
From me do backe receiue the Flowre of all,
And leaue me but the Bran. What say you too't?
  2.Cit. It was an answer, how apply you this?
  Men. The Senators of Rome, are this good Belly,
And you the mutinous Members: For examine
Their Counsailes, and their Cares; disgest things rightly,
Touching the Weale a'th Common, you shall finde
No publique benefit which you receiue
But it proceeds, or comes from them to you,
And no way from your selues. What do you thinke?
You, the great Toe of this Assembly?
  2.Cit. I the great Toe? Why the great Toe?
  Men. For that being one o'th lowest, basest, poorest
Of this most wise Rebellion, thou goest formost:
Thou Rascall, that art worst in blood to run,
Lead'st first to win some vantage.
But make you ready your stiffe bats and clubs,
Rome, and her Rats, are at the point of battell,
The one side must haue baile.
Enter Caius Martius.

Hayle, Noble Martius

   Mar. Thanks. What's the matter you dissentious rogues
That rubbing the poore Itch of your Opinion,
Make your selues Scabs

2.Cit. We haue euer your good word

   Mar. He that will giue good words to thee, wil flatter
Beneath abhorring. What would you haue, you Curres,
That like nor Peace, nor Warre? The one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
Where he should finde you Lyons, findes you Hares:
Where Foxes, Geese you are: No surer, no,
Then is the coale of fire vpon the Ice,
Or Hailstone in the Sun. Your Vertue is,
To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him,
And curse that Iustice did it. Who deserues Greatnes,
Deserues your Hate: and your Affections are
A sickmans Appetite; who desires most that
Which would encrease his euill. He that depends
Vpon your fauours, swimmes with finnes of Leade,
And hewes downe Oakes, with rushes. Hang ye: trust ye?
With euery Minute you do change a Minde,
And call him Noble, that was now your Hate:
Him vilde, that was your Garland. What's the matter,
That in these seuerall places of the Citie,
You cry against the Noble Senate, who
(Vnder the Gods) keepe you in awe, which else
Would feede on one another? What's their seeking?
  Men. For Corne at their owne rates, wherof they say
The Citie is well stor'd

   Mar. Hang 'em: They say?
They'l sit by th' fire, and presume to know
What's done i'th Capitoll: Who's like to rise,
Who thriues, & who declines: Side factions, & giue out
Coniecturall Marriages, making parties strong,
And feebling such as stand not in their liking,
Below their cobled Shooes. They say ther's grain enough?
Would the Nobility lay aside their ruth,
And let me vse my Sword, I'de make a Quarrie
With thousands of these quarter'd slaues, as high
As I could picke my Lance

   Menen. Nay these are almost thoroughly perswaded:
For though abundantly they lacke discretion
Yet are they passing Cowardly. But I beseech you,
What sayes the other Troope?
  Mar. They are dissolu'd: Hang em;
They said they were an hungry, sigh'd forth Prouerbes
That Hunger-broke stone wals: that dogges must eate
That meate was made for mouths. That the gods sent not
Corne for the Richmen onely: With these shreds
They vented their Complainings, which being answer'd
And a petition granted them, a strange one,
To breake the heart of generosity,
And make bold power looke pale, they threw their caps
As they would hang them on the hornes a'th Moone,
Shooting their Emulation

   Menen. What is graunted them?
  Mar. Fiue Tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms
Of their owne choice. One's Iunius Brutus,
Sicinius Velutus, and I know not. Sdeath,
The rabble should haue first vnroo'st the City
Ere so preuayl'd with me; it will in time
Win vpon power, and throw forth greater Theames
For Insurrections arguing

Menen. This is strange

   Mar. Go get you home you Fragments.
Enter a Messenger hastily.

  Mess. Where's Caius Martius?
  Mar. Heere: what's the matter!
  Mes. The newes is sir, the Volcies are in Armes

   Mar. I am glad on't, then we shall ha meanes to vent
Our mustie superfluity. See our best Elders.
Enter Sicinius Velutus, Annius Brutus Cominius, Titus Lartius,
with other
Senatours.

  1.Sen. Martius 'tis true, that you haue lately told vs,
The Volces are in Armes

   Mar. They haue a Leader,
Tullus Auffidius that will put you too't:
I sinne in enuying his Nobility:
And were I any thing but what I am,
I would wish me onely he

   Com. You haue fought together?
  Mar. Were halfe to halfe the world by th' eares, & he
vpon my partie, I'de reuolt to make
Onely my warres with him. He is a Lion
That I am proud to hunt

   1.Sen. Then worthy Martius,
Attend vpon Cominius to these Warres

Com. It is your former promise

   Mar. Sir it is,
And I am constant: Titus Lucius, thou
Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus face.
What art thou stiffe? Stand'st out?
  Tit. No Caius Martius,
Ile leane vpon one Crutch, and fight with tother,
Ere stay behinde this Businesse

Men. Oh true-bred

   Sen. Your Company to'th' Capitoll, where I know
Our greatest Friends attend vs

   Tit. Lead you on: Follow Cominius, we must followe
you, right worthy your Priority

Com. Noble Martius

Sen. Hence to your homes, be gone

   Mar. Nay let them follow,
The Volces haue much Corne: take these Rats thither,
To gnaw their Garners. Worshipfull Mutiners,
Your valour puts well forth: Pray follow.

Exeunt.

Citizens steale away. Manet Sicin. & Brutus.

  Sicin. Was euer man so proud as is this Martius?
  Bru. He has no equall

Sicin. When we were chosen Tribunes for the people

Bru. Mark'd you his lip and eyes

Sicin. Nay, but his taunts

Bru. Being mou'd, he will not spare to gird the Gods

Sicin. Bemocke the modest Moone

   Bru. The present Warres deuoure him, he is growne
Too proud to be so valiant

   Sicin. Such a Nature, tickled with good successe, disdaines
the shadow which he treads on at noone, but I do
wonder, his insolence can brooke to be commanded vnder
Cominius?
  Bru. Fame, at the which he aymes,
In whom already he's well grac'd, cannot
Better be held, nor more attain'd then by
A place below the first: for what miscarries
Shall be the Generals fault, though he performe
To th' vtmost of a man, and giddy censure
Will then cry out of Martius: Oh, if he
Had borne the businesse

   Sicin. Besides, if things go well,
Opinion that so stickes on Martius, shall
Of his demerits rob Cominius

   Bru. Come: halfe all Cominius Honors are to Martius
Though Martius earn'd them not: and all his faults
To Martius shall be Honors, though indeed
In ought he merit not

   Sicin. Let's hence, and heare
How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion
More then his singularity, he goes
Vpon this present Action

Bru. Let's along.

Exeunt.

Enter Tullus Auffidius with Senators of Coriolus.

  1.Sen. So, your opinion is Auffidius,
That they of Rome are entred in our Counsailes,
And know how we proceede,
  Auf. Is it not yours?
What euer haue bin thought one in this State
That could be brought to bodily act, ere Rome
Had circumuention: 'tis not foure dayes gone
Since I heard thence, these are the words, I thinke
I haue the Letter heere: yes, heere it is;
They haue prest a Power, but it is not knowne
Whether for East or West: the Dearth is great,
The people Mutinous: And it is rumour'd,
Cominius, Martius your old Enemy
(Who is of Rome worse hated then of you)
And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
These three leade on this Preparation
Whether 'tis bent: most likely, 'tis for you:
Consider of it

1.Sen. Our Armie's in the Field: We neuer yet made doubt but Rome was ready To answer vs

   Auf. Nor did you thinke it folly,
To keepe your great pretences vayl'd, till when
They needs must shew themselues, which in the hatching
It seem'd appear'd to Rome. By the discouery,
We shalbe shortned in our ayme, which was
To take in many Townes, ere (almost) Rome
Should know we were a-foot

   2.Sen. Noble Auffidius,
Take your Commission, hye you to your Bands,
Let vs alone to guard Corioles
If they set downe before's: for the remoue
Bring vp your Army: but (I thinke) you'l finde
Th'haue not prepar'd for vs

   Auf. O doubt not that,
I speake from Certainties. Nay more,
Some parcels of their Power are forth already,
And onely hitherward. I leaue your Honors.
If we, and Caius Martius chance to meete,
'Tis sworne betweene vs, we shall euer strike
Till one can do no more

All. The Gods assist you

Auf. And keepe your Honors safe

1.Sen. Farewell

2.Sen. Farewell

All. Farewell.

Exeunt. omnes.

Enter Volumnia and Virgilia, mother and wife to Martius: They set them downe on two lowe stooles and sowe.

Volum. I pray you daughter sing, or expresse your selfe in a more comfortable sort: If my Sonne were my Husband, I should freelier reioyce in that absence wherein he wonne Honor, then in the embracements of his Bed, where he would shew most loue. When yet hee was but tender-bodied, and the onely Sonne of my womb; when youth with comelinesse pluck'd all gaze his way; when for a day of Kings entreaties, a Mother should not sel him an houre from her beholding; I considering how Honour would become such a person, that it was no better then Picture-like to hang by th' wall, if renowne made it not stirre, was pleas'd to let him seeke danger, where he was like to finde fame: To a cruell Warre I sent him, from whence he return'd, his browes bound with Oake. I tell thee Daughter, I sprang not more in ioy at first hearing he was a Man-child, then now in first seeing he had proued himselfe a man

Virg. But had he died in the Businesse Madame, how then? Volum. Then his good report should haue beene my Sonne, I therein would haue found issue. Heare me professe sincerely, had I a dozen sons each in my loue alike, and none lesse deere then thine, and my good Martius, I had rather had eleuen dye Nobly for their Countrey, then one voluptuously surfet out of Action. Enter a Gentlewoman.

Gent. Madam, the lady Valeria is come to visit you

Virg. Beseech you giue me leaue to retire my selfe

   Volum. Indeed you shall not:
Me thinkes, I heare hither your Husbands Drumme:
See him plucke Auffidius downe by th' haire:
(As children from a Beare) the Volces shunning him:
Me thinkes I see him stampe thus, and call thus,
Come on you Cowards, you were got in feare
Though you were borne in Rome; his bloody brow
With his mail'd hand, then wiping, forth he goes
Like to a Haruest man, that task'd to mowe
Or all, or loose his hyre

Virg. His bloody Brow? Oh Iupiter, no blood

   Volum. Away you Foole; it more becomes a man
Then gilt his Trophe. The brests of Hecuba
When she did suckle Hector, look'd not louelier
Then Hectors forhead, when it spit forth blood
At Grecian sword. Contenning, tell Valeria
We are fit to bid her welcome.

Exit Gent.

Vir. Heauens blesse my Lord from fell Auffidius

   Vol. Hee'l beat Auffidius head below his knee,
And treade vpon his necke.
Enter Valeria with an Vsher, and a Gentlewoman.

Val. My Ladies both good day to you

Vol. Sweet Madam

Vir. I am glad to see your Ladyship

   Val. How do you both? You are manifest house-keepers.
What are you sowing heere? A fine spotte in good
faith. How does your little Sonne?
  Vir. I thanke your Lady-ship: Well good Madam

   Vol. He had rather see the swords, and heare a Drum,
then looke vpon his Schoolmaster