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Shall Star-like rife, as great in Fame as he was,
And fo ftand fix'd. Peace, Plenty, Love, Truth, Terrour,
That were the Servants to this chofen Infant,

Shall then be his, and like a Vine grow to him;
Where ever the bright Sun of Heav'n fhall shine,
His Honour, and the greatness of his Name,
Shall be, and make new Nations. He fhall flourish,
And like a Mountain Cedar, reach his Branches,
To all the Plains about him: Our Children's Children
Shal! fee this, and bless Heav'n.

King. Thou fpeakest Wonders.

Cran. She fhall be to the Happiness of England,'
An aged Princess; many days fhall fee her,
And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
Would I had known no more: But fhe muft die,
She muft, the Saints must have her; yet a Virgin,
A most unfpotted Lilly fhall the pals

To th' Ground, and all the World fhall mourn her.
King. O Lord Archbishop,

Thou haft made me now a Man; never, before
This happy Child, did I get any thing.
This Oracle of Comfort has fo pleas'd me,
That when I am in Heav'n, I fhall defire

To fee what this Child does, and praise my Maker.
I thank ye all. To you, my good Lord Mayor,
And you good Brethren, I am much beholden:
I have receiv'd much Honour by your prefence,
And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, Lords,
Ye must all fee the Queen, and the muft thank ye,
She will be fick elfe. This day, no Man think
H'as bufinefs at his Houfe, for all fhall flay:
This little One fhall make it Holy-day.

[Exeunt.

THE

EPILOGUE.

T

IS ten to one this Play can never please

All that are here: Some come to take

their ease,

And sleep out an A&t or two; but those we fear
We've frighted with our Trumpets: fo'tis clear,
They'll say it's naught. Others, to hear the City
Abus'd extreamly, and to cry That's witty;
Which we have not done neither; that, I fear,
All the expected good w'are like to hear,
For this Play at this time, is only in
The merciful Construction of good Women;
For fuch a one we shew'd 'em: If they smile,
And fay 'twill do; I know within a while,
All the best Men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
If they hold, when their Ladies bid 'em clap.

P:1809

AND

CRESSID A.

A

TRAGEDY.

Printed in the YEAR 1709.

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