Surv.

On my soul, I'll speak but truth.

I told my lord the duke, By the devil's illusions

The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him To ruminate on this so far, until

It forged him some design, which, being believed,

It was much like to do. He answered, Tush!

It can do me no damage; adding further,
That, had the king in his last sickness failed,
The cardinal's and sir Thomas Lovell's heads
Should have gone off.

K. Hen.

Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ah! There's mischief in this man. -Canst thou say further? Surv. I can, my liege.

Being at Greenwich,

After your highness had reproved the duke
About sir William Blomer,-

I remember,

K. Hen.
Of such a time:-Being my servant sworn,
The duke retained him his. -But on; what hence?
Surv. If, quoth he, I for this had been committed,
As, to the Tower, I thought,—I would have played
The part my father meant to act upon

The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in his presence; which if granted,
As he made semblance of his duty, would

Have put his knife into him.

K. Hen.

Wol. Now, madam, may his And this man out of prison? Q. Kath.

A giant traitor!

highness live in freedom,

God mend all!

K. Hen. There's something more would out of thee;

what say'st?

Surv. After the duke his father, with the knife, He stretched him, and, with one hand on his dagger, Another spread on his breast, mounting his eyes, He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor Was,-Were he evil used, he would outgo His father, by as much as a performance Does an irresolute purpose.

K. Hen.

To sheath his knife in us.

There's his period,

He is attached:

Call him to present trial: if he may

Find mercy in the law, 'tis his; if none,

Let him not seek't of us. By day and night!
He's traitor to the height.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Room in the Palace.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, and LORD SANDS.

Cham. Is it possible, the spells of France should juggle Men into such strange mysteries?

Sands.

New customs,

Though they be never so ridiculous,-

Nay, let them be unmanly,-yet are followed.
Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English
Have got by the late voyage, is but merely

A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones;
For when they hold them, you would swear directly,
Their very noses had been counsellors

To Pepin, or Clotharius, they keep state so.

Sands. They have all new legs, and lame ones; one would take it,

That never saw them pace before, the spavin,
A springhalt reigned among them.

Cham.

Death! my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,
That, sure, they have worn out Christendom.
What news, sir Thomas Lovell?

Lov.

Enter SIR THOMAS LOVEll.

How now?

'Faith, my lord,

What is't for?

I hear of none, but the new proclamation
That's clapped upon the court gate.

Cham.

Lov. The reformation of our travelled gallants, That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.

Cham. I am glad 'tis there; now I would pray our mon

sieurs

To think an English courtier may be wise,
And never see the Louvre.

Lov.
They must either
(For so run the conditions) leave these remnants
Of fool and feather, that they got in France,
With all their honorable points of ignorance,
Pertaining thereunto, (as fights, and fireworks;
Abusing better men than they can be,
Out of a foreign wisdom,) renouncing clean
The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,
Short blistered breeches, and those types of travel,
And understand again like honest men;

Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it,

They may, cum privilegio, wear away

The lag end of their lewdness, and be laughed at. Sands. 'Tis time to give them physic, their diseases Are grown so catching.

Cham.

What a loss our ladies

Will have of these trim vanities!

Lov.

Ay, marry,

There will be woe indeed, lords; the sly whoresons
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies;

A French song, and a fiddle, has no fellow.

Sands. The devil fiddle them! I am glad they're going, (For, sure, there's no converting of them:) now An honest country lord, as I am, beaten

A long time out of play, may bring his plain-song,
And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady,
Held current music too.

Cham.

Well said, lord Sands;

Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.
Sands. No, my lord;

Nor shall not, while I have a stump.

Cham.

Whither were you a going?

Lov.

Your lordship is a guest too.

Cham.

Sir Thomas,

To the cardinal's;

O, 'tis true;

This night he makes a supper, and a great one,

To many lords and ladies; there will be

The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you.

Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;

His dews fall everywhere.

Cham.

No doubt he's noble;

He had a black mouth, that said other of him.

Sands. He may, my lord, he has wherewithal; in him, Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine : Men of his way should be most liberal;

They are set here for examples.

Cham.

But few now give so great ones.

True, they are so;

My barge stays;

Your lordship shall along.-Come, good sir Thomas,

We shall be late else; which I would not be,

For I was spoke to, with sir Henry Guildford,
This night to be comptrollers.

Sands.

I am your lordship's.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The Presence Chamber in York Place.

Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal,
a longer table for the guests. Enter, at one door, ANNE
BULLEN, and divers Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as
guests; at another door, enter SIR HENRY GUILDFORD.
Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace
Salutes ye all. This night he dedicates
To fair content, and you: none here, he hopes,
In all this noble bevy, has brought with her
One care abroad: he would have all as merry

As first-good company, good wine, good welcome,

Can make good people.- O, my lord, you are tardy;

Enter Lord Chamberlain, LORD SANDS, and SIR THOMAS
LOVELL.

The very thought of this fair company
Clapped wings to me.

Cham.
You are young, sir Harry Guildford.
Sands. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal
But half my lay-thoughts in him, some of these
Should find a running banquet ere they rested,
I think, would better please them. By my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.

Lov. O, that your lordship were but now confessor To one or two of these!

Sands.

'Faith, how easy?

I would I were; They should find easy penance. Lov. Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it. Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, Place you that side, I'll take the charge of this: His grace is entering.-Nay, you must not freeze; Two women placed together makes cold weather.My lord Sands, you are one will keep them waking; Pray, sit between these ladies.

By my faith,

Sands. And thank your lordship.-By your leave, sweet ladies. [Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and another Lady.

If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;

I had it from my father.

Anne.

Was he mad, sir?

Sands. O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too,

But he would bite none; just as I do now,

He would kiss you twenty with a breath.

[Kisses her. Cham. Well said, my lord.So, now you are fairly seated; - Gentlemen, The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies Pass away frowning.

Sands.

Let me alone.

For my little cure,

Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, attended; and takes

his state.

Wol. You are welcome, my fair guests; that noble lady, Or gentleman, that is not freely merry,

Is not my friend. This, to confirm my welcome;
And to you all good health.

[Drinks.

Sands.
Your grace is noble ;-
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,
And save me so much talking.

Wol.
My lord Sands,
I am beholden to you; cheer your neighbors.-
Ladies, you are not merry;-Gentlemen,

Whose fault is this?

Sands.

The red wine first must rise

In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have them
Talk us to silence.

Anne. You are a merry gamester, my lord Sands.
Sands. Yes, if I make my play.

Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,

For 'tis to such a thing,

You cannot show me.

Anne.
Sands. I told your grace, they would talk anon.
[Drum and trumpets within: chambers discharged.
What's that?

Wol.

Cham. Look out there, some of you. [Exit a Servant.

Wol. What warlike voice? And to what end is this?-Nay, ladies, fear not; By all the laws of war you are privileged.

Re-enter Servant.

Cham. How now? what is't?

A noble troop of strangers;

Serv. For so they seem: they have left their barge, and landed; And hither make, as great ambassadors

From foreign princes.

Wol.

Good lord chamberlain,

Go, give them welcome; you can speak the French tongue;