Cham. What a lofs our Ladies

WiI have of these trim Vanities?

Lov. Ay marry,

There will be wo indeed, Lords, the fly Whorefons
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 are going,

For fure there's no converting 'em : Now
An honeft 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 currant Mufick too.

Cham. Well faid, Lord Sands,
Your Colts Tooth is not caft yet?
Sands. No, my Lord,

Nor fhall not, while I have a Stump.
Cham. Sir Thomas,
Whither were you a-going?

Lov. To the Cardinal's ;
Your Lordship is a Gueft 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 affure you.
Lov. That Churchman

Bears a bounteous mind indeed;

A hand as fruitful as the Land that feeds us,

His Dew falls every where,

Cham. No doubt, he's noble;

He had a black Mouth that faid other of him.

Sands. He may, my Lord,

H'as wherewithal in him;

Sparing would fhew a worfe fin, than ill Doctrine.

Men of his way should be moft liberal,

They are fet here for Examples,

Cham. True, they are fo;

But few now give fo great ones:

My Barge ftays;

Your Lordship fhall along: Come, good Sir Thomas,
We shall be late elfe, which I would not be,

For

For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guilford,
This Night to be Comptrollers.
Sands. I am your Lordship's.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

IV.

Hautboys. A fmall Table under a State for the Cardinal, 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 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 firft, 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 thought of this fair Company

Clap'd Wings to me.

Cham. You are young, Sir Henry Guilford,
Sands. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the Cardinal
But half my Lay-thoughts in him, fome of thefe
Should find a running Barquet, e'er they refted,
I think would better please 'em: By my Life,
They are a fweet Society of fair ones.

Lov. O that your Lordship were but now Confeffor
To one or two of thefe.

Sands. I would I were,

They should find cafie Penance.

Lov. 'Faith, how eafie?

Sands. As cafie 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 makes cold Weather: My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking; Pray fit between thefe Ladies,

Sands.

Sands. By my Faith,

And thank your Lordship. By your leave, fweet 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, juft as I do now,

He would kiss you twenty with a breath.
Cham. Well faid, my Lord:

So now y'are fairly feated: Gentlemen,
The Penence lyes on you, if these fair Ladies
Pafs away frowning.

Sands. For my little Cue,

Let me alone.

Hawboys. Enter Cardinal Wolley, 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 fuch a Bowl may hold

And fave me fo much talking.

Wol. My Lord Sands,

my Thanks,

I am beholding to you; cheer your Neighbour:
Ladies, you are not merry; Gentlemen,

Whole fault is this?

Sands. The red Wine first must rise

In their fair Cheeks, my Lord, then we shall have 'em
Talk us to filence.

Anne. You are a merry Gamester,

My Lord Sands.

Sands. Yes, if I make my Play:

Here's to your Ladiship, and pledge it, Madam:

For 'tis to fuch a thing.

Anne. You cannot fhew me.

Drum and Trumpets, Chambers difcharged.

Sands. I told your Grace, they would talk aron.

Wol. What's that?

Cham. Look out there, fome of ye.

Wol. What warlike Voice,

And to what end is this? Nay, Ladies, fear not;
By all the Laws of War y'are privileged.

Enter

Enter a Servant.

Cham. How now, what is't?

Ser. A noble Troop of Strangers,

For fo they feem; they have left their Barge and landed, And hither make, as great Ambaffadors

From Foreign Princes.

Wol. Good Lord Chamberlain.

Ge, give 'em welcome; you can fpeak the French Tongue,
And pray receive 'em Nobly, and conduct 'em
Into our Prefence, where this Heav'n of Beauty
Shall fhine at full upon them. Some attend him.

[All arife, and Tables removed. You have now a broken Banquet, but we'll mend it. A good Digeftion to you all; and once more

I fhowre a welcome on ye: welcome all.

Hautboys. Enter King and others as Maskers, habited like Shepherds, usher'd by the Lord Chamberlain. They pafs directly before the Cardinal, and gracefully falute him.

A Noble Company: what are their Pleasures?
Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd
To tell your Grace, that having heard by Fame
Of this fo noble and fo fair Affembly,

This Night to meet here, they could do no lefs,
Out of the great refpe&t they bear to Beauty,
But leave their Flocks, and under your fair Condu&
Crave leave to view thefe Ladies, and entreat
An hour of Revels with 'em.

Wol. Say, Lord Chamberlain,

They have done my poor Houfe grace:
For which I pay 'em a thoufand thanks,

And pray 'em take their Pleasures.

King. The faireft hand I ever touch'd: O Beauty, Till now I never knew thee,

Wol. My Lord.

Cham. Your Grace.

[Chufe Ladies, King and Anne Bullen.

[Mufick, Dance.

Wol. Pray tell 'em thus much from me: There thould be one amongft 'em by his Perfon More worthy this Place than my felf, to whom,

If

If I but knew him, with my Love and Duty

I would furrender it.

Cham. I will, my Lord.

Wol. What fay they?

Cham. Such a one, they all confess,

[Whisper.

There is indeed, which they would have your Grace
Find out, and he will take it.

Wol. Let me fee then,

By all your good leaves, Gentlemen, here I'll make
My Royal Choice.

King. You have found him, Cardinal:

You hold a fair Affembly, you do well, Lord.
You are a Church-man, or I'll tell you, Cardinal, ..
I should judge now unhappily.

Wol. I am glad

Your Grace is grown fo pleasant.

·King. My Lord Chamberlain,

Prithee 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's Women.

King. By Heav'n fhe's a dainty one : Sweet heart,

I were unmannerly to take you out,

[To Anne Bullen.

And not to Kifs you. A Health, Gentlemen,

Let it go round.

Wol. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the Banquet ready

I'th' Privy Chamber?

Lov. Yes, my Lord.

Wol. Your Grace,

I fear, with Dancing is a little heated,

King. I fear too much.

Wol. There's fresh Air, my Lord,

In the next Chamber.

King. Lead in your Ladies every one: Sweet Partner,
I must not yet forfake you; let's be merry,

Good my Lord Cardinal: I have a dozen Healths
To drink to these fair Ladies, and a measure
To lead 'em once again, and then let's dream.
Who's beft in Favour. Let the Mufick knock it.

[Exeunt with Trumpets.

ACT