1. A Lively flourish of trumpets.

2. Then two Judges.

3. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before him.

4. Choristers singing.

5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter in his coat of arms, and on his head a gilt copper crown.

6. Marquess of 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. Collars of SS.

7. 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.

8. A canopy born by four of the Cinque-Ports, under it the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side her the bishops of London and Winchester.

9. The old Dutchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train.

10. Certain ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold without flowers.

They pass over the stage in order and state, and then Exeunt, with a great flourish of trumpets.

2 Gen.
A royal train believe me; these I know;
Who's that who bears the scepter?

1 Gen.
Marquess Dorset.
And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod.

2 Gen.
A bold brave gentleman. That should be
The Duke of Suffolk.

1 Gen.
'Tis the same: high Steward.

2 Gen.
And that my lord of Norfolk?

1 Gen.
Yes.

2 Gen.
Heav'n bless thee,
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.

1 Gen.
They that bear
The cloth of state above her, are four barons
Of the Cinque-Ports.

2 Gen.
Those men are happy, so are all are near her.
I take it, she that carries up the train,

Is that old noble lady, the Dutchess of Norfolk.

1 Gen.
It is, and all the rest are Countesses.

2 Gen.
Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed,
And sometimes falling ones.

1 Gen.
No more of that. Enter a third Gentleman.
God save you Sir. Where have you been broiling?

3 Gen.
Among the croud i'th' abby, where a finger
Could not be wedg'd in more; I am stifled,
With the meer rankness of their joy.

2 Gen.
You saw the ceremony?

3 Gen.
I did.

1 Gen.
How was it?

3 Gen.
Well worth the seeing.

2 Gen.
Good Sir, speak it to us.

3 Gen.
As well as I am able. The rich stream
Of lords and ladies, having brought the Queen
To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off
A distance from her; while her Grace sate down
To rest a while, some half an hour, or so,
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
Believe me, Sir, she is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man; which when the people
Had the full view of, such a noise arose
As the shrowds make at sea in a stiff tempest,
As loud, and to as many tunes. Hats, cloaks,
Doublets, I think, flew up; and had their faces
Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
I never saw before. Great-belly'd women,
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press

And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
Could say, this is my wife there, all were woven
So strangely in one piece.

2 Gen.
But pray what follow'd?

3 Gen.
At length her Grace rose, and with modest paces
Came to the altar, where she kneel'd, and saint-like
Cast her fair eyes to heav'n, and pray'd devoutly.
Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people:
When by the Arch-bishop of Canterbury,
Sh' had all the royal makings of a Queen;
As holy oil, Edward confessor's crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir
With all the choicest musick of the kingdom,
Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state pac'd back again
To York-Place, where the feast is held.

1 Gen.
You must no more call it York-Place, that's past.
For since the Cardinal fell, that title's lost,
'Tis now the King's, and call'd Whitehall.

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

2 Gen.
What two reverend bishops
Were those, that went on each side of the Queen?

3 Gen.
Stokesly and Gardiner, the one of Winchester,
Newly preferr'd from the King's Secretary:
The other, London.

2 Gen.
He of Winchester
Is held no great good lover of th' Arch-bishop,
The virtuous Cranmer.

3 Gen.
All the land knows that:
However yet there's no great breach; when't comes,

Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.

2 Gen.
Who may that be, I pray you?

3 Gen.
Thomas Cromwell,
A man in much esteem with th' King, and truly
A worthy friend. The King has made him
Master o'th' jewel house,
And one already of the privy-council.

2 Gen.
He will deserve more.

3 Gen.
Yes, without all doubt.
Come, gentlemen, you shall go my way,
Which is to th' court, and there shall be my guests:
Something I can command; as I walk thither
I'll tell ye more,

Both.
You may command us, Sir. [Exeunt.