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|
 O, my lord, y'are tardy, |
|
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| The very thought of this fair company |
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|
| Clapp'd wings to me. |
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| CHAMBERLAIN. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. |
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|
| SANDYS. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the Cardinal |
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|
| But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these |
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| Should find a running banquet ere they rested |
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| I think would better please 'em. By my life, |
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| They are a sweet society of fair ones. |
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|
| LOVELL. O that your lordship were but now confessor |
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| To one or two of these! |
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|
| SANDYS. I would I were; |
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| They should find easy penance. |
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| LOVELL. Faith, how easy? |
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| SANDYS. As easy as a down bed would afford it. |
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|
| CHAMBERLAIN. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, |
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|
| Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this. |
|
|
| His Grace is ent'ring. Nay, you must not freeze: |
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|
| Two women plac'd together makes cold weather. |
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|
| My Lord Sandys, you are one will keep 'em waking: |
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| Pray sit between these ladies. |
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|
| SANDYS. By my faith, |
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|
| And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies. |
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|
|
[Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and anotherlady]
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|
|
| If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; |
|
|
| I had it from my father. |
|
|
| ANNE. Was he mad, sir? |
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|
| SANDYS. 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.[Kissesher] |
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|
| CHAMBERLAIN. Well said, my lord. |
|
|
| So, now y'are fairly seated. Gentlemen, |
|
|
| The penance lies on you if these fair ladies |
|
|
| Pass away frowning. |
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|
| SANDYS. For my little cure, |
|
|
| Let me alone. |
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|
|
| WOLSEY. 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! |
|
|
|
[Drinks]
|
|
|
| SANDYS. Your Grace is noble. |
|
|
| Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks |
|
|
| And save me so much talking. |
|
|
| WOLSEY. My Lord Sandys, |
|
|
| I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbours. |
|
|
| Ladies, you are not merry. Gentlemen, |
|
|
| Whose fault is this? |
|
|
| SANDYS. The red wine first must rise |
|
|
| In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em |
|
|
| Talk us to silence. |
|
|
| ANNE. You are a merry gamester, |
|
|
| My Lord Sandys. |
|
|
| SANDYS. Yes, if I make my play. |
|
|
| Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam, |
|
|
| For 'tis to such a thing— |
|
|
| ANNE. You cannot show me. |
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|
| SANDYS. I told your Grace they would talk anon. |
|
|
|
[Drum and trumpet. Chambers discharg'd]
|
|
|
| WOLSEY. What's that? |
|
|
| CHAMBERLAIN. Look out there, some of ye. |
|
|
| Exit a SERVANT |
|
|
| WOLSEY. What warlike voice, |
|
|
| And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not: |
|
|
| By all the laws of war y'are privileg'd. |
|
|
|
|
| CHAMBERLAIN. How now! what is't? |
|
|
| SERVANT. A noble troop of strangers— |
|
|
| For so they seem. Th' have left their barge and landed, |
|
|
| And hither make, as great ambassadors |
|
|
| From foreign princes. |
|
|
| WOLSEY. Good Lord Chamberlain, |
|
|
| Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue; |
|
|
| And pray receive 'em nobly and conduct 'em |
|
|
| Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty |
|
|
| Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. |
|
|
| Exit CHAMBERLAIN attended. All rise, and tables |
|
|
| remov'd |
|
|
| You have now a broken banquet, but we'll mend it. |
|
|
| A good digestion to you all; and once more |
|
|
| I show'r a welcome on ye; welcome all. |
|
|
|
|
| A noble company! What are their pleasures? |
|
|
| CHAMBERLAIN. Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd |
|
|
| To tell your Grace, that, having heard by fame |
|
|
| Of this so noble and so fair assembly |
|
|
| This night to meet here, they could do no less, |
|
|
| Out of the great respect they bear to beauty, |
|
|
| But leave their flocks and, under your fair conduct, |
|
|
| Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat |
|
|
| An hour of revels with 'em. |
|
|
| WOLSEY. Say, Lord Chamberlain, |
|
|
| They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em |
|
|
| A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures. |
|
|
|
[They choose ladies. The KING chooses ANNEBULLEN]
|
|
|
| KING. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty, |
|
|
| Till now I never knew thee! |
|
|
|
[Music. Dance]
|
|
|
| WOLSEY. My lord! |
|
|
| CHAMBERLAIN. Your Grace? |
|
|
| WOLSEY. Pray tell 'em thus much from me: |
|
|
| There should be one amongst 'em, by his person, |
|
|
| More worthy this place than myself; to whom, |
|
|
| If I but knew him, with my love and duty |
|
|
| I would surrender it. |
|
|
| CHAMBERLAIN. I will, my lord. |
|
|
|
[He whispers to the maskers]
|
|
|
| WOLSEY. What say they? |
|
|
| CHAMBERLAIN. Such a one, they all confess, |
|
|
| There is indeed; which they would have your Grace |
|
|
| Find out, and he will take it. |
|
|
| WOLSEY. Let me see, then.[Comes from hisstate] |
|
|
| By all your good leaves, gentlemen, here I'll make |
|
|
| My royal choice. |
|
|
| KING.[Unmasking]Ye have found him, Cardinal. |
|
|
| You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord. |
|
|
| You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, Cardinal, |
|
|
| I should judge now unhappily. |
|
|
| WOLSEY. I am glad |
|
|
| Your Grace is grown so pleasant. |
|
|
| KING. My Lord Chamberlain, |
|
|
| Prithee come hither: what fair lady's that? |
|
|
| CHAMBERLAIN. An't please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's |
|
|
| daughter— |
|
|
| The Viscount Rochford—one of her Highness' women. |
|
|
| KING. By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweet heart, |
|
|
| I were unmannerly to take you out |
|
|
| And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen! |
|
|
| Let it go round. |
|
|
| WOLSEY. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready |
|
|
| I' th' privy chamber? |
|
|
| LOVELL. Yes, my lord. |
|
|
| WOLSEY. Your Grace, |
|
|
| I fear, with dancing is a little heated. |
|
|
| KING. I fear, too much. |
|
|
| WOLSEY. There's fresher air, my lord, |
|
|
| In the next chamber. |
|
|
| KING. Lead in your ladies, ev'ry one. Sweet partner, |
|
|
| I must not yet forsake you. Let's be merry: |
|
|
| Good my Lord Cardinal, I have half a dozen healths |
|
|
| To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure |
|
|
| To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream |
|
|
| Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it. |
|
|
| Exeunt, with trumpets |
|
|
