Imatges de pàgina

As to the Tower, I thought; I would have plaid
The part my father meant to act upon
Th' usurper Richard, who being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in's presence; which, if granted,
(As he made semblance of his duty) would


his knife into him. King. A giant traitor!

Wol. Now, Madam, may his Highness live in freedom And this man out of prison?

Queen. God mend all.
King. There's something more would out of thee;

what lay'st ?
Surv. After the Duke his father with the knife,
He stretch'd him, and with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on's breaft, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenour.
Was, were he evil us'd, he would out-go
His father, by as much as a performance
Does an irrefolute purpose.

King. There's his period,
To sheath his knife in us: he is attach'd,
Call him to present tryal ; 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.



Enter Lord Chamberlain, and Lord Sands. Chamb. Si poffible the spells of France mould juggle

Sands. New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay let 'em be unmanly yet are follow'd.

cham. As far as I see, all the good our English Have got by the last voyage is but meerly.

fit or two o'ch' face, but they are shrewd ones; For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly


Their very noses had been counsellors
To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep ftate fo.
Sands. They've all new legs, and lame ones; one

would take it.
(That never saw 'em pace before) the spavin.
And spring-halt reign'd among 'em.

Cham. Death ! my lord,
Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,
That sure they've worn out Christendom: how now!
What news Sir Thomas Lovell ?

Enter Sir Thomas Lovell.
Lov. 'Faith, my lord,
I hear of none, but the new proclamation
That's clap'd upon the court-gate.

Cham. What is't for?

Lov. The reformation of our travellid gallants,
That fill the court with quarrels, talk and tailors.
Cham. I'm glad 'tis there ; now I would pray out

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

Lov. They must either
(For so run the conditions) leaye those remnants
Of fool and feather, that they got

in France, With all their honourable points of ignorance Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fire-works ; Abusing better men than they can be Out of a foreign wisdom, clean renouncing, The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings, Short bolster'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 The lag-end of their lewdness, and be laughid at.

Sands. 'Tis time to give them physick, iheir diseases are grown fo catching.

Cham. What a lols our ladies Will have of these trim vanities? Lov. Ay marry,



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There will be woe indeed, lords; the fly 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'm glad they're going,
For sure there's no converting 'em : now Sirs,
An honest country lord, as I am, beaten
A long time out of play, may bring his plain fong,
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 caft yet?

Sands. No, my lord,
Nor shall not, while I have a stump.

Cham, Sir Thoinas,
Whither are you going?

Lov. To the Cardinal's;
Your lordship is a guest too.

Cham, 0, '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. The churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed;
A band as fruitful as the land that feeds us,
His dew falls ev'ry where,

Cham. No doubt, he's noble;
He had a black mouth that said other of him.

Sands. He may, my lord, h'as wherewithal in him;
Sparing would shew a worse fin than ill doctrine.
Men of his way should be most liberal,
They're set here for examples.

Cham. True, they are so; But few now give so great ones: my barge stays ; Your lordship Thall along: come, good Sir Thomas, We shall be late elle, which I would not be, For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guilford, This night to be comptrollers. Sands. I'm your lordship’s.



SCENE VII. Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardi

nal, a longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne Bullen, and divers other ladies and gentlemen, as guests, at one door; at another door enter Sir Henry Guilford.

Guil. Ladies, a general welcome from his gracę
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.

Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands and Lovell.
O my lord, y'are tardy ;
The very thoughts of this fair company
Clap'd wings to me.

Cham. You're young, Sir Harry Guilford.

Sand. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the Cardinal But half my lay-thoughts in him, some of these Should find a running banquet ere they refted; I think would better please 'em: by my life, They are a sweet society of fair ones

Lov. O that your lordship were but now confesor To one or two of these.

Sands. I would I were,
They should find easie penance.

Lov. 'Faith, how easy?
Sands. As easy as a down bed would afford it.

Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you fit : Sir Harry, Place

you that fide, 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 fit between these ladies.

Sands. By my faith,
And thank your lordship. By your leaye sweet ladies;


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'd kiss you twenty with a breath.

Cham. Well said, my lord:
So now y'are fairly feated : gentlemen,
The penance lyes on you, if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.
Sands. For my


cue, Let me alone. Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, and takes

his state. Wol. Y'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.

Sands. Your Grace is noble:
Let me have such a bowlmay hold my thanks,
And save me so much talking.

Wol. My lord Sands,
I am beholden to you ; cheer your neighbour:
Ladies, you are not merry; gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?

Sands. The red Wine firft must rife
In their fair cheeks, my lord, then we shall have 'em
Talk us to filence,

Anne. You're a merry gamester,
My lord Sands.

Sands. Yes, if I make my play,
Here's to your lady ship, and pledge it, madam:
For 'tis to such a thing

Anne. You cannot shew me.
Sands. I told your Grace that they would talk anon.

(Drum and trumpets, chambers discharged
Wol. What's that?
Cham. Look out there, some of ye.
Woke What warlike voice,


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