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 wel-

come

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
Clapp'd wings to me.

Cham. You are young, Sir Harry Guilford.

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.

2

Lov. O, that your Lordship were but now confessor

To one or two of these!

Sands. I would, I were;

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 ent'ring. Nay, you must not freeze;
Two women plac'd together makes cold weather
My Lord Sands, you are one will keep them
waking;
Pray, sit between these ladies.

Sands. By my faith,

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.

Cham. Well said, my Lord.

So, now you are fairly seated:

{Kisses her.

Gentlemen,

The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies

Pass away frowning.

Sands. For my little cure,

Let me alone.

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.

Sands. Your Grace is noble:

[Drinks.

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 neighbours,
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,

Anne. You cannot show me.

Sands. I told your Grace, they would talk

· [Drum and trumpets within: chambers discharged.

Wol. What's that?

Cham. Look out there, some of you.

[Exit a Servant."

Nay, Ladies, fear

not;

By all the laws of war you are privileg'd.

Re-enter Servant.

Cham. How now? what is't?

Serv. A noble troop of strangers;

For so they seem: they have left their barge, and, landed;

And hither make, as great Ambassadorsak
From foreign Princes.

Wol. Good Lord Chamberlain,

Go, give them welcome, you can speak the French

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tongue;

T

And, pray, receive them nobly, and conduct

2

them,

Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty

A

Shall shine at full upon them:

him.

Some attend

[Exit Chamberlain, attended. All

arise, and tables removed.

You have now a broken banquet; but we'll

A good digestion to you all: and, once more,
I shower a welcome on you; - Welcome all

Hautboys. Enter the King, and twelve others, as Maskers, habited like Shepherds, with sixteen, torch-bearers; usher'd by the Lord Chamberlain. They pass directly before the Cardinal and gracefully salute him.

A noble company! What are their pleasures? Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they

pray'd

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 con-

duct,

Grave leave to view these ladies, and entreat
An hour of revels with thern.

Wol. Say, Lord Chamberlain,

They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay them

A thousand thanks, and pray them take their plea

tsures.

[Ladies chosen for the dance. The King choses ANNE BULLEN

K. Hen. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O

god cubeauty,

Till now I never knew thee. [Musick. Dance. Wol. My Lord,

Cham. Your Grace?

Wol. Pray, tell them thus much from me: There should be one amongst them, by this per

son,

More worthy this place than myself; to whom,
If I but knew him, with my love and duty
I would surrender it.

Cham. I will, my Lord.

[Cham. goes to the company, and

returns.

Wol. What say they?

Cham. Such a one, they all confess,

There is, indeed; which they would have your

Grace

You hold a fair assembly; you do

Cardinal:
[Unmasking
well, Lord :

You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, Cardinal,
I should judge now unhappily..
Wol. I am glad,

Your Grace is grown so pleasant.

K. Hen. My Lord Chamberlain,.

Pr'ythee, come hither: What fair lady's that? Cham. An't please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter,

The Viscount Rochford, one of her Highness' wo

men.

K. Hen.