The Queene's crowning. That don, the Archbishop putteth on the Ring on the fourth finger of the leaft hand.

A Praier by the Archbishop.

Then the Archbishop taking the Crowne in his hands, and laying it before him on the Altar, saieth a Praier. The Praier don, he setteth the Crowne on the Queene's head.

After that he sayeth a Praier.

The delivery of the Queene's Scepter and Rodd.

After the Praier, the Archbishop delivereth first the Scepter into her right hand, and the Rodd of Ivorye with the dove into her left hand; both which being donne, he sayeth a Praier; which being ended, the Queene arizeth and goeth from the Altar, and is led by two Bishops up to the stages, and passing by the King in his Throane, she doth inclinare Regi ejus, Ma'tem ut decet adoranda; which having done, she is led to her Throane on the left hand, somewhat lower then the King, and is placed or inthronized in it.

After this, the Archbishop begineth the Communion Collects; wherin, after the Epistle read by two Bishops, Gospell, the Nicen Creede, offertory is sung by the Quire. Whieles the offertory is singing, the King and Queene descend from their Thrones and come downe to the Altar, and the King maketh his oblation, first, of bread and wine, secondly, of a marcke of goulde; the Queene after him offereth likewise; after which the Archbishop pronounceth blessing over them. That ended, the King and Queene are brought back to their chaires hard-by the Altar. The Archbishop proceedeth to the Communion.

After the Archbishop hath communicated himselfe and those which assist him, the King and Queene come to the steps of the Altar, there to receave the Holy Sacrament. The Archbishop ministreth the body; the Abott the cupp.

That don, the King and Queene are brought back to the Throane above the stages; theare they stay till the Comunion be ended, after which they both goe into the Chapell of King Edward the Confessor, and theare they put of the Crownes wherewith they were crowned.

They withdrawe themselves into their traverses; the King putteth of King Edward's roabes wherewith he was invested; he is arrayed with his owne roabes Royall by the Great Chamberlaine of England.

Then coming forth, the Archbishop putteth on the King and Queene's heads the Imperiall Crowne's which they are to weare.

VOL. I.

The King taketh St. Edward's Scepter in his hand, and the Queene hers.
The Trayne is sett in order, and they returne the same waye they came.

After the King and Queene retourne to the Pallace, the Scepters are delivered to the Abbott of Westminster, to be kept among the residue of the Regalia at Westminster1.

On the 26th of July all the Aldermen of London who had not been previously knighted, had that honour conferred on them at Whitehall; namely,

Sir Thomas Bennet 2.

Sir Thomas Lowe3.

Sir Leonard Haliday 4.

Sir John Watts 5.
Sir Richard Goddard6.
Sir Henry Rowe 7.

Sir Edward Holmden 8.

Sir Robert Hampson 9.
Sir Humfrey Weld 10.

Sir Thomas Cambell 11

Sir William Craven 12.

Sir Henry Anderson 13.
Sir William Glover 14.
Sir James Pemberton 15.
Sir John Swynerton 16.
Sir William Romney 17.
Sir Thomas Middleton 18.

Sir Thomas Hayes 19.
Sir William Cranley 20.

The Ceremonies, Form of Prayer, and Services, used in Westminster Abbey at the Coronation of King James I. and Queen Anne his Consort, performed by Dr. Whitgift, Archbishop of Canterbury, &c. with an account of the Procession from the Palace to the Abbey. With the Coronation of King Charles I. in Scotland," were published at London, in folio,1685.

In the Churchwardens' Accompts at Kingston-upon-Thames, are these entries :

"For setting up a Booth in the Town, and for mustering before the Coronation, 2s. 6d. "To James Allison and four others, for carrying the Armour at the Coronation, 13s. 4d. "For armour, L.4."

2 Sir Thomas Bennet, Sheriff in 1594, Lord Mayor 1603.

3 Sheriff in 1595; Lord Mayor in 1604; and M. P. for London in 1614 and 1621.

♦ Sheriff in 1595, Lord Mayor 1605.

6 Sheriff in 1596, but never Lord Mayor. Sheriff in 1598, never Lord Mayor.

10 Sheriff in 1599, Lord Mayor in 1608.

12 Sheriff in 1600, Lord Mayor in 1610. 14 Sheriff in 1603, not Lord Mayor.

5 Sheriff in 1596, Lord Mayor in 1606.
7 Sheriff in 1597, Lord Mayor in 1607.

9 Sheriff in 1598, never Lord Mayor.
"Sheriff in 1600, Lord Mayor in 1609.

13 Sheriff in 1601, not Lord Mayor.

15 Of Sir James Pemberton, see p. 113.

16 Of Sir John Swinnerton, see the "Progresses of Queen Elizabeth," vol. III. p. 598. He was at this time Sheriff, Lord Mayor in 1612. See p. 113.

17 Sheriff in 1603, not Lord Mayor.

1 Sheriff in 1603; Lord Mayor in 1613; and M. P. for London in 1624 and 1625. 19 Sheriff in 1604, Lord Mayor in 1614.

20 Never Sheriff; perhaps not an Alderman.

ENGLAND'S CESAR'.

HIS MAJESTIE'S MOST ROYALL CORONATION.

Together with the manner of the solemne shewes prepared for the honour of his entry into the Cittie of London. ELIZA, her Coronation in Heaven; and London's Sorrow for her Visitation.

By HENRY PETOWE 2.

To the curteous and wise yong Gentlemen united in love, Master N. H. Master Ro. W. Master J. H. Master L. K. Master H. A. and Master Tho. S. Henry Petowe wisheth increase of vertue; and prosperous successe in all their affaires. I have adventured (curteous, vertuous, and wise,) with the strong wrastlers of Olympia, though not to winne yet to worke for the garland; I meane, the laurell wreath of your gentle favours. The judgement of my labours relyeth on your severall censures, whereof if your opinions rellish but one small taste of content, I presume upon a generall liking of others: such is the sufficiencie I conceave of your discrete judgements. Therefore touch and taste, taste and disgest; but with such contentment, that you may applaud the fruitfull operation. How it will proove, I know not, but I hope pleasant in disgesture. For, however the fruits of my toyle now rellish after the long gathering, I dare protest, the tree from whence they were pluckt, came of Royall stocke. Make, therefore, your severall choyces of the best; and if you finde some more greene then others, impute it to their want of growth, in that they are but yong, and not come to their true perfection; or rather, blame my rashnes, that make sale of them for mellow fruite, when indeede they are not ripe. But in hope they will all prove delicious, according to your expectations, I present them, in all love, to your kinde acceptances;

This very rare production (a copy of which, at Mrs. Garrick's sale, bound with some other Tracts, was sold for forty guineas) was written by the Author of "Elizabethá quasi vivens," printed in the 'Progresses" of that illustrious Queen, vol. III. p. 615.—“ Of Henry Petowe," observes the acute Collector of "Restituta, 1815;" vol. III. p. 24, " no notice appears to have been transmitted by any of our Poetical Biographers. It is not improbable that he was some Dependant on the Court, as he speaks in the Dedication to his Elizabetha quasi vivens, of his private sorrows for the loss of Queen Elizabeth, and pays such speedily succeeding congratulations to her Royal Successor in his England's Cæsar, which is opaquely inscribed to a plurality of persons."

1

⚫ London: Printed by John Windet, for Mathew Law, and are to be sold at his shop, at the signe of the Fox, in Paule's Church-yarde, 1603.

promising as much in affection, as any other can performe in perfection. Therefore, looke and like of such as you finde; and I promise you (under your favourable incouragements) to imploy all my best designes and studies to your severall good likings. Yours in all that he may,

AD LECTOREM.

Go, princely writ, apparelled in love,
The poyson of all sorrowes to remoove:
Inrich thy selfe and me, by thy selfe riches,
And strive to mount beyond our poet's pitches.
And thou, kind Reader, reading this my writ,
Applaud the invention of an infant wit:
Though yoong it be, it hath as good a hart
To merite well, as those of high desart.

Then blame it not, although for fame it strive,

H. P.

For, after death, fame still remains alive. Thine in all love, H. P.

THE INDUCTION.

Now turne I wand'ring all my hopes againe,
And loose them from the prison of dispaire;
Ceasing my teares that did bedew the plaine,
And clearing sighes which did eclipse the ayre.
My mourning weeds are off, and sigh I may not,
Joy stops my teares, and joying weepe I cannot.
Nor tongue, nor penne, nor witte can truly sing,
His wond'rous worth and matchlesse dignitie;
I meane the glory of the English King,
Which wraps my muse in all felicitie.

Oh, were my penne so rich in poetrie,
As to pourtray his Royal Majestie!

But since she is not as I would she were,
And since I cannot as I wish I could;
No marvell, though her weakenes doe forbeare
To sing that Royall song which all pennes should.
Yet what she can she will for love compile,
Not seeking glory for a stately style.

Goe, joyfull truce-men, in your virgin weedes,
Under a Royall patron I have past you;
Soake up the teares of every hart that bleeds,
And on the wings of Fame hence quickly hast
And from the silver mayne of calmly Thames
Sound forth the worth of our heroicke JAMES.

you.

Into the eares of drooping London thunder,
The King of Peace and Plentie sallies by:
Bid her rejoyce in him, our English wonder,
Who mournes to see her in extremitie.

He mournes for her even at his Coronation,
'T will greive her soule to taste his Royall passion;
Yet, London, thou art happie by his teares,

That weepes for thee, whom all the world else feares.

HIS MAJESTIE'S MOST ROYALL CORONATION.

Within the table of æternitie,

In leaves out-waring brasse, shall Fame write downe With quilles of steele, the lasting memory

Of England's Caesar, and great Cæsar's Crowne.
Give place, yee silent shadowes of blacke night,
And let the brightest lamp of Heaven shine;
Vanish, thou time of dreames; for, to delight
This jeme must be surveid with angells' eyne.
Angels, as bright as is the brow of Heaven,

When nere a cloud hangs lowring in the sky;
When foggy mists are from the sphere bereven,
And angel's bewtie mates with Heaven's eye.

Such Sunne-bright angels, with a smiling face,
Must England's Cæsar's Coronation grace.
Mount high, my soule, the harbinger of light,
Plaies jocond musicke to the welcome day;
Aurora blushes, and the sable night,

Unto the ruddy morning gives faire way.
From forth th' Easterne clyme, behold the Sunne
Shines on the turrets of great Cæsar's towne,
And summons him to weare what he hath won,
By true succession. What brow dares to lowre,
Or contradict the will of mightie Jove.

He'le have it so, for England's future blisse;
Our King is his anoynted dearest love,

And what we have, we farme it but as his.
Then like true liegemen, let our voyces sing,
Glory to God! that He may blesse our King.

This is the day; yea, this is the happie day,
Makes Heaven smile, and Tellus weepe for joy;
Even for her dry parcht womb a liquid sea
Of christall water issuing ore the bay