3. Choristers singing [Musick. 4. Mayor of London bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head, a gilt copper crown. 5. Marquis Dorset, bearing a scepter of gold, on his head, a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crown'd with an earl's coronet. Col lars of SS. 6. 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. 7. 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. 8. The old Dutchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train. 9. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold without flowers. 2 Gent. A royal train, believe me. — These I know;Who's that, that bears the scepter? i Gent. Marquis Dorset: And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod. 2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman: And that should be The duke of Suffolk. 1 Gent. 'Tis the same; high-steward. sam CO 2 Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk? i Gent. Yes. 2 Gent. Heaven bless thee! [Looking on the Queen. 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. i Gent. They, that bear The cloth of honour over her, are four barons Of the Cinque-ports. 2 Gent. 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, dutchess of Norfolk. 1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. 2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars, indeed; And, sometimes, falling ones. i Gent. 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? 3 Gent. Among the croud i' the abbey; where a finger Could not be wedg'd in more; and I am stifled With the mere rankness of their joy. 2 Gent. You saw The ceremony? 3 Gent. That I did. W 1 Gent. How was it? Good sir, speak it to us. But, 'pray, what follow'd? 3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with mo dest 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, Sir, you , Must no more call it York-place, that is past: For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost; 'Tis now the king's, and call’d—Whitehall. s Gent. I know it; But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name Is fresh about me. 2 Gent. What two reverend bishops Were those that went on each side of the queen? 3 Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of Win chester, (Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,)' The other, London. 2 Gent. He of Winchester Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, The virtuous Cranmer. 3 Gent. All the land kňows that: However, yet there's no great breach; when it comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. 2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? 3 Gent. 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, sed And one, already, of the privy-council. . 2 Gent. He will deserve more. s Gent. 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. SCENE II. KIM BOLTON. ce. Enter Katharine, Dowager, sick; led between Griffith and Patience. O, Griffith, sick to death: Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace, Out of the pain you suffer’d, gave no ear to't. Kath. Pr’ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he died: If well, he stepp'd before me, happily, For my example. Grif. . Well, the voice goes, madam: For after the stout earl Northumberland |