Page 1711 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

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 [70]
Had the full view of, such a noise arose

As the shrouds 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 [75]

I never saw before. Great-bellied 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 [80]
So strangely in one piece.

SECOND GENTLEMAN
But what followed?

THIRD GENTLEMAN
At length her grace rose, and with modest paces
Came to the altar, where she kneeled, and saint-like

Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and prayed devoutly,
Then rose again, and bowed her to the people; [85]
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
She 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 performed, the choir, [90]
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,

Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state paced back again
To York Place, where the feast is held.

FIRST GENTLEMAN
Sir,
You must no more call it York Place; that’s past, [95]

For since the Cardinal fell that title’s lost:
’Tis now the King’s, and called Whitehall.