Imatges de pÓgina
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For, when they hold 'em, you would swear directly, Their very noses had been counsellors

To Pepin, or Clotharius, they keep state so.

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

That never saw them pace before, the spavin

And springhalt reign'd among 'em.

Cham. Death! my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,
That, sure, they have worn out Christendom. How

now?

What news, Sir Thomas Lovel?

Enter Sir THOMAS LOVEL.

Lov. Faith, my lord,

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

Cham. What is't for

Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants, That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. Cham. I am glad, 'tis there; now I would pray our monsieurs

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 540
Of fool, and feather, that they got in France,
With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto (as fights, and fire-works;

Abusing

Abusing better men than they can be,

Out of a foreign wisdom), renouncing clean
The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,
Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel,
And understand again like honest men ;

Or pack to their old play-fellows: there, I take it,
They may, cum privilegio, wear away

550

The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at. Sands..'Tis time to give them physick, their dis

eases

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 'em! I am glad, they're

going

560 (For, sure, there's no converting of 'em); 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 musick 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. Sir Thomas,

Whither were you a going?

570

Lov. To the cardinal's;

Your lordship is a guest too.

Cham. 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 in

deed,

A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
His dews fall every where.

Cham No doubt, he's noble;

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

58.

Sands. He may, my lord, he has wherewithal; in him,

Sparing would shew a worse sin than ill doctrine :
Men of his way should be most liberal,

They are set here for examples.

Cham. True, they are so;

But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; Your lordship shall along :-Come, good Sir Tho

mas,

We shall be late else; which I would not be, 590
For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford,

This night to be comptrollers.
Sands. I am your lordship's.

[Exeunt.

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SCENE IV.

Changes to York-Place. Hautboys. A small Table under a State for the Cardinal, a longer Table for the Guests. Then enter ANNE BULLEN, and divers other Ladies and Gentlewomen, as Guests, at one Door; at another Door, enter Sir HENRY GUILDFORD.

Guil. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace Salutes you 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 LOVEL.

The very thought of this fair company

Clap'd wings to me.

Cham. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.
Sands. Sir Thomas Lorel, 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 'em: By my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.

601

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

Sands. I would, I were;

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They

They should find easy penance.

Lov. 'Faith, how easy?

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 entring.-Nay, you must not freeze;
Two women plac'd together make cold weather :-
My lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking;
Pray, sit between these ladies.
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Sands. By my faith,

And thank your lordship.-By your leave, sweet la

dies:

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

I had it from my father.

Anne. Was he mad, sir?

[Sits.

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. For my little cure,

Let me alone.

Hautboys.

630

Enter Cardinal WOLSEY, and takes his

State.

Wol. You are welcome, my fair guests; that noble

lady,

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