Chapter: 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.

 The common people are crowding the palace court, eager to witness the new princes at her christening. The Porter and his man attempt vainly to bring the multitude to order. The people are imperious to authority and have overpowered those who tried to hold them back. An angry lord Chamberlain informs the porter that if the King blames him for this mob, he will ensure that the porters are imprisoned. As the royal party comes out after the christening, the porter and his man part the crowd to ensure their unhindered progress.

