King Henry VIII | Page 9

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 plainsong And have an hour of hearing; and, by 'r Lady, Held current music too.
CHAMBERLAIN. Well said, Lord Sandys; Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.
SANDYS. No, my lord; Nor shall not, while I have a stump.
CHAMBERLAIN. Sir Thomas, Whither were you a-going?
LOVELL. To the Cardinal's. Your lordship is a guest too.
CHAMBERLAIN. 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.
LOVELL. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; His dews fall everywhere.
CHAMBERLAIN. No doubt he's noble; He had a black mouth that said other of him.
SANDYS. He may, my lord; 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.
CHAMBERLAIN. True, they are so; But few now give so great ones. 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.
SANDYS. I am your lordship's.
[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. A Hall in 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 Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter Sir Henry Guildford.]
GUILDFORD. 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.
[Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sandys, and Sir Thomas Lovell.]
O, my lord, you're tardy; The very thought of this fair company Clapp'd wings to me.
CHAMBERLAIN. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.
SANDYS. 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 'em. By my life, They are a sweet society of fair ones.
LOVELL. O, that your lordship were but now confessor To one or two of these!
SANDYS. I would I were; They should find easy penance.
LOVELL. Faith, how easy?
SANDYS. As easy as a down-bed would afford it.
CHAMBERLAIN. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this. His Grace is ent'ring. Nay, you must not freeze; Two women plac'd together makes cold weather. My Lord Sandys, you are one will keep 'em waking; Pray, sit between these ladies.
SANDYS. By my faith, And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies. If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; I had it from my father.
ANNE. Was he mad, sir?
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.
[Kisses her.]
CHAMBERLAIN. Well said, my lord. So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen, The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies Pass away frowning.
SANDYS. For my little cure, Let me alone.
[Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, and takes his state.]
WOLSEY. You're 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.
SANDYS. I told your Grace they would talk anon.
[Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged.]
WOLSEY. What's that?
CHAMBERLAIN. Look out there, some of ye.
[Exit Servant.]
WOLSEY. What warlike voice, And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; By all the laws of war you're privileg'd.
[Re-enter Servant.]
CHAMBERLAIN. How now! what is't?
SERVANT. A noble troop of strangers, For so they seem. They've 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