CROWD (_coming on_). God save their Graces! STAFFORD. Bagenhall, I see The Tudor green and white. (_Trumpets_.) They are coming now. And here's a crowd as thick as herring-shoals. BAGENHALL. Be limpets to this pillar, or we are torn Down the strong wave of brawlers. CROWD. God save their Graces! [_Procession of Trumpeters, Javelin-men, etc.; then Spanish and Flemish Nobles intermingled_. STAFFORD. Worth seeing, Bagenhall! These black dog-Dons Garb themselves bravely. Who's the long-face there, Looks very Spain of very Spain? BAGENHALL. The Duke Of Alva, an iron soldier. STAFFORD. And the Dutchman, Now laughing at some jest? BAGENHALL. William of Orange, William the Silent. STAFFORD. Why do they call him so? BAGENHALL. He keeps, they say, some secret that may cost Philip his life. STAFFORD. But then he looks so merry. BAGENHALL. I cannot tell you why they call him so. [_The_ KING _and_ QUEEN _pass, attended by Peers of the Realm, Officers of State, etc. Cannon shot off_. CROWD. Philip and Mary, Philip and Mary! Long live the King and Queen, Philip and Mary! STAFFORD. They smile as if content with one another. BAGENHALL. A smile abroad is oft a scowl at home. [KING _and_ QUEEN _pass on. Procession_. FIRST CITIZEN. I thought this Philip had been one of those black devils of Spain, but he hath a yellow beard. SECOND CITIZEN. Not red like Iscariot's. FIRST CITIZEN. Like a carrot's, as thou say'st, and English carrot's better than Spanish licorice; but I thought he was a beast. THIRD CITIZEN. Certain I had heard that every Spaniard carries a tail like a devil under his trunk-hose. TAILOR. Ay, but see what trunk-hoses! Lord! they be fine; I never stitch'd none such. They make amends for the tails. FOURTH CITIZEN. Tut! every Spanish priest will tell you that all English heretics have tails. FIFTH CITIZEN. Death and the Devil--if he find I have one-- FOURTH CITIZEN. Lo! thou hast call'd them up! here they come--a pale horse for Death and Gardiner for the Devil. _Enter_ GARDINER _(turning back from the procession)_. GARDINER. Knave, wilt thou wear thy cap before the Queen? MAN. My Lord, I stand so squeezed among the crowd I cannot lift my hands unto my head. GARDINER. Knock off his cap there, some of you about him! See there be others that can use their hands. Thou art one of Wyatt's men? MAN. No, my Lord, no. GARDINER. Thy name, thou knave? MAN. I am nobody, my Lord. GARDINER (_shouting_). God's passion! knave, thy name? MAN. I have ears to hear. GARDINER. Ay, rascal, if I leave thee ears to hear. Find out his name and bring it me (_to_ ATTENDANT). ATTENDANT. Ay, my Lord.