Buck.
Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done
Since last we saw ^note in France?

Nor.
I thank your grace,
Healthful, and ever since a fresh admirer
Of what I saw there.

Buck.
An untimely ague
Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when
Those suns ^note of glory, those two lights of men,
Met in the vale of Andren ^note.

Nor.
'Twixt Guynes and Arde ^note:
I was then present, saw them ^note salute on horseback;
Beheld them, when they 'lighted, how they clung

In their embracement, as they grew together;
Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd ^note
Such a compounded one?

Buck.
All the whole time
I was my chamber's prisoner.

Nor.
Then you lost
The view of earthly glory: men might say,
Till this time pomp was single, but now married
To one above itself. Each following day
Became the next day's master, till the last ^note
Made former wonders ^note its ^note. To-day the French,
All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen ^note gods,
Shone down the English; and to-morrow they
Made Britain India: every man that stood
Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubins, all gilt: the madams too,
Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labour
Was to them as a painting: now this masque
Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night
Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings,
Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
As presence did present them; him in eye
Still him in praise; and being present both,
'Twas said they saw but one, and no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When ^note these suns—
For so they phrase 'em—by their heralds challenged
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
Beyond thought's compass; that former ^note fabulous story,
Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
That ^note Bevis was believed.

Buck.
O, you go far.

Nor.
As I belong to worship and affect

In honour honesty, the tract of every thing
Would by a good discourser lose some life
Which action's self was tongue to ^note. All was royal;
To the disposing of it nought rebell'd;
Order gave each thing view; the office ^note did
Distinctly his full function.

Buck.
Who did guide,
I mean, who set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport together, as you guess?

Nor.
One, certes ^note, that ^note promises no element
In such a business. ^note

Buck.
I pray ^note you, who, my lord?

Nor.
All this was order'd by the good discretion
Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.

Buck.
The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed
From his ambitious finger. What had he
To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder
That such a keech ^note can with his very bulk ^note
Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun,
And keep it from the earth.

Nor.
Surely ^note, sir,
There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace
Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon
For high feats done to the crown; neither allied
To eminent assistants; but, spider-like,
Out of his self-drawing ^note web, he gives us note ^note,

The force of his own merit makes his way;
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys ^note
A place next to the king.

Aber.
I cannot tell
What heaven hath given him; let some graver eye
Pierce into that; but I can see his pride
Peep through each part of him: whence has he that?
If not from hell, ^note the devil is a niggard,
Or has given all before, and he begins
A new hell in himself ^note.

Buck.
Why ^note the devil,
Upon this French going out, took he upon him,
Without the privity o' the king, to appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
Of all the gentry; for the most part such
To whom ^note as great a charge as little honour
He meant ^note to lay upon: and his own letter ^note,
The honourable board of council out,
Must fetch him in he ^note papers ^note. ^note

Aber.
I do know
Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
By this so sicken'd ^note their estates that never
They shall abound as formerly.

Buck.
O, many
Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em ^note

For this great journey. What ^note did this vanity ^note
But minister communication ^note of
A most poor issue?

Nor.
Grievingly I think,
The peace between the French and us not values
The cost that did conclude it.

Buck.
Every man,
After the hideous storm that follow'd, was
A thing inspired, and not consulting broke
Into a general prophecy: That this tempest,
Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
The sudden breach on't.

Nor.
Which is budded out;
For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux ^note.

Aber.
Is it therefore
The ambassador is silenced?

Nor.
Marry, is't.

Aber.
A proper title of a peace ^note, and purchased
At a superfluous rate!

Buck.
Why, all this business
Our reverend cardinal carried.

Nor.
Like it ^note your grace,
The state takes notice of the private difference
Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you—
And take it from a heart that wishes towards you ^note
Honour and plenteous safety—that you read
The cardinal's malice and his potency
Together; to consider further that
What his high hatred would effect ^note wants not
A minister in his power. You know his nature,
That he's revengeful, and I know his sword
Hath a sharp edge; it's long and 't may be said
It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend,

Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel;
You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock
That I advise ^note your shunning. ^noteEnter Cardinal Wolsey, the purse borne before him, certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers. The Cardinal in his passage fixeth his eye on Buckingham, and Buckingham on him, both full of disdain.

Wol. ^note
The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha?
Where's his examination?

First Sec. ^note
Here, so please you.

Wol.
Is he in person ready?

First Sec.
Ay, please ^note your grace.

Wol.
Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
Shall lessen this ^note big look. ^note [Exeunt Wolsey ^note and his Train.

Buck.
This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd ^note, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book ^note
Outworths a noble's blood.

Nor.
What, are you chafed ^note?
Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only
Which your disease requires.

Buck.
I read in's looks ^note
Matter against me, and his eye reviled
Me as his abject object: at this instant
He bores ^note me with some trick: he's gone to the ^note king;
I'll follow and outstare him.

Nor.
Stay, my lord,
And let your reason with your choler question
What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills

Requires slow pace at first: anger is like
A full-hot ^note horse, who being allow'd his way,
Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
Can advise me like you: be to yourself
As you would to your friend.

Buck.
I'll to the king;
And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
This Ipswich fellow's insolence, or proclaim
There's difference in no persons.

Nor.
Be advised;
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself: we may outrun,
By violent swiftness, that which we run at,
And lose by ^note over-running. Know you not,
The fire that mounts the liquor till't run o'er
In seeming to ^note augment it wastes it? Be advised:
I say again, there is no English soul
More ^note stronger to direct you than yourself,
If with the sap of reason you would quench,
Or but allay, the fire of passion.

Buck.
Sir,
I am thankful to you; and I'll go along
By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow—
Whom from the flow of gall I name ^note not but
From sincere motions—by intelligence
And proofs as clear as founts in July ^note when ^note
We see each grain of gravel, I do know
To be corrupt and treasonous.

Nor.
Say not ‘treasonous.’

Buck.
To the king I'll say 't; and make my vouch as strong
As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
Or wolf, or both—for he is equal ravenous ^note
As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief

As able to perform't; his mind and place
Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally ^note—
Only to show his pomp as well in France
As here at home, suggests the king our master
To this last costly treaty, the interview,
That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass
Did break i' the rinsing ^note.

Nor.
Faith, and so it did.

Buck.
Pray, give me favour, sir ^note. This cunning cardinal
The articles o' the ^note combination drew
As himself pleased; and they were ratified
As he cried ‘Thus let ^note be,’ to as much end
As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal ^note
Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey,
Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows—
Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
To the old dam, treason—Charles the emperor,
Under pretence to see the queen his aunt—
For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came
To whisper Wolsey—here makes visitation:
His fears were that the interview betwixt
England and France might through their amity
Breed him some prejudice; for from this league
Peep'd harms that menaced him: he ^note privily
Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow ^note—
Which I do well, for I am sure the emperor
Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted
Ere it was ask'd—but when the way was made
And paved with gold, the emperor thus ^note desired,
That he would please to alter the king's course
And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know,
As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal
Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases
And for his own advantage. ^note

Nor.
I am sorry
To hear this of him, and could wish he ^note were
Something mistaken in't.

Buck.
No, not a syllable:
I do pronounce him in that very shape
He shall appear in proof. Enter Brandon, ^note a Sergeant at arms before him, and two or three of the Guard. ^note

Bran.
Your office, sergeant; execute it.

Serg.
Sir,
My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl
Of Hereford ^note, Stafford, and Northampton, I
Arrest thee of high treason, in the name
Of our most sovereign king.

Buck.
Lo you, my lord ^note,
The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish
Under device and practice.

Bran.
I am sorry
To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on
The business present ^note: 'tis his highness' pleasure
You shall to the Tower. ^note

Buck.
It will help me nothing
To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me
Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven
Be done in this and all things! I obey.
O my Lord Abergavenny ^note, fare you ^note well!

Bran.
Nay, he must bear you company. [To Abergavenny. ^note] The king
Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know
How he determines further.

Aber.
As the duke said,
The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure
By me obey'd!

Bran.
Here is a warrant from
The king to attach Lord Montacute ^note; and the bodies
Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car ^note,
One ^note Gilbert Peck, his chancellor,— ^note

Buck.
So, so;
These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope.

Bran.
A monk o' the Chartreux.

Buck.
O ^note, Nicholas ^note Hopkins?

Bran.
He.

Buck.
My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal
Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already:
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,
Whose figure even this instant ^note cloud puts on ^note,
By darkening ^{note note} my clear sun. My lord ^note, farewell. [Exeunt. ^note Scene II. [Footnote: The same. The council-chamber. ^note Cornets. Enter ^note King Henry, leaning on the Cardinal's shoulder; the Nobles, and Sir Thomas Lovell: the Cardinal places himself under the King's feet on his right side.

King.
My life itself, and the best heart of it,
Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level
Of a full-charged confederacy, and give ^note thanks
To you that choked ^note it. Let be call'd before us
That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person ^note
I'll hear him his confessions justify;

And point by point the treasons of ^note his master
He shall again relate. A noise within ^note, crying ‘Room for the Queen! ^note’ Enter Queen Katharine, ushered by the Duke of Norfolk, and the Duke of Suffolk: ^note she kneels. The King riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him.

Q. Kath.
Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor.

King.
Arise, and take place ^note by us: half your suit
Never name to us; you have half our power:
The other moiety ere you ask is given;
Repeat your will and take it.

Q. Kath.
Thank your majesty.
That you would love yourself, and in that love
Not unconsider'd ^note leave your honour nor
The dignity of your office, is the point
Of my petition.

King.
Lady mine, proceed.

Q. Kath.
I am solicited, not by a few ^note,
And those of true condition, that your subjects
Are in great grievance: there have been commissions
Sent down among 'em, which hath ^note flaw'd the heart
Of all their loyalties: wherein although,
My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches
Most bitterly on you as putter on
Of these exactions, yet the king our master—
Whose honour heaven shield from soil!—even he escapes not
Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks
The sides ^note of loyalty and almost appears
In loud rebellion.

Nor.
Not almost appears;
It doth appear; for, upon these taxations,

The clothiers all, not able to maintain
The many ^note to them 'longing ^note, have put off
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who,
Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger
And lack of other means, in desperate manner
Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar,
And danger serves among them.

King.
Taxation!
Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardinal,
You that are blamed for it alike with us,
Know you of this taxation?

Wol.
Please you, sir,
I know but of a single part in aught
Pertains to the state, and front but in that file
Where others tell steps with me.

Q. Kath.
No, my lord,
You know no more than others: ^note but you frame
Things that ^note are known alike ^note, which are not wholesome
To those which would not know them and yet must
Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions,
Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are
Most pestilent to the hearing; and, to bear 'em ^note,
The back is sacrifice to the load. They say
They are devised by you; or else ^note you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.

King.
Still exaction!
The nature of it? in what kind, let's know,
Is ^note this exaction?

Q. Kath.
I am much too venturous
In tempting of your patience, but am bolden'd
Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief
Comes through commissions, which compel ^note from each
The sixth part of his substance, to be levied

Without delay; and the pretence for this
Is named your wars in France: this makes bold mouths:
Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze
Allegiance in them; their ^note curses now
Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass,
This ^note tractable obedience is a slave
To each incensed will. I would your highness
Would give it quick consideration, for
There is no primer business ^note.

King.
By my life,
This is against our pleasure.

Wol.
And for me,
I have no further gone in this than by
A single voice, and that not pass'd me but
By learned ^note approbation of the judges ^note. If I am
Traduced by ignorant ^note tongues, which neither know
My faculties nor person, yet will be
The chronicles of my doing, let me say
'Tis but the fate of place and the rough brake
That virtue must go through. We must not stint
Our necessary actions, in the fear
To cope malicious censurers; which ever,
As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow
That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By sick ^note interpreters, once ^note weak ones ^note, is
Not ours or not allow'd; what worst, as oft,
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
For our best act ^note. If we shall ^note stand still,
In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd ^note at,

We should take root here where we sit, or sit ^note
State-statues ^note only.

King.
Things done ^note well, ^note
And with a care, exempt themselves from fear;
Things done without example, in their issue
Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent ^note
Of this commission? I believe, not any.
We must not rend our subjects from our laws,
And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each?
A trembling ^note contribution! Why, we take
From every tree lop ^note, bark, and part o' the timber,
And though we leave it with a root, thus ^note hack'd,
The air will drink the sap. To every county
Where this is question'd send our letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has denied
The force of this commission: pray, look to't;
I put it to your care.

Wol. [To the Secretary ^note]
A word with you.
Let there be letters writ to every shire,
Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved ^note commons
Hardly conceive of me: let it be noised
That through our intercession this revokement
And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you
Further in the proceeding. [Exit Secretary. ^noteEnter Surveyor.

Q. Kath.
I am ^note sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run ^note in your displeasure.

King. ^note
It grieves many:
The gentleman is learn'd and a most rare ^note speaker;

To nature none more bound; his training such
That he may furnish and instruct great teachers
And never seek for ^note aid out of himself. Yet see ^note,
When these so ^note noble benefits shall prove
Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt,
They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly
Than ever they were fair. This man so complete ^note,
Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we,
Almost with ravish'd ^note listening ^note, could not find
His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady,
Hath into monstrous habits put the graces
That once were his, and is become as black
As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us ^note; you shall hear—
This was his gentlemen in trust—of him
Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount
The fore-recited ^note practices; whereof
We cannot feel too little, hear too much.

Wol.
Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you,
Most like a careful subject, have collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

King.
Speak freely.

Surv.
First, it was usual with him, every day ^note
It would infect his speech, that if the king
Should without issue die, he'll ^note carry it so
To make the sceptre his: these very words
I've heard him utter to his son-in-law,
Lord Abergavenny ^note, to whom by oath he menaced
Revenge upon the cardinal.

Wol.
Please your highness ^note, note

This ^note dangerous conception in this point.
Not friended by his wish, to your high person ^note
His will is most malignant, and it stretches
Beyond you to your friends.

Q. Kath.
My learn'd lord cardinal,
Deliver all with charity.

King.
Speak on:
How grounded he his title to the crown
Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him
At any time speak aught?

Surv.
He was brought ^note to this
By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton ^note.

King.
What was that Henton ^note?

Surv.
Sir, a Chartreux friar,
His confessor, who fed him every minute
With words of sovereignty.

King.
How know'st thou this?

Surv.
Not long before your highness sped to France,
The duke being at the Rose, within the parish
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners
Concerning the French journey: I replied,
Men fear'd ^note the French would prove perfidious,
To the king's danger. Presently the duke
Said, 'twas the fear indeed, and that he doubted
'Twould prove the verity of certain words
Spoke by a holy monk; ‘that oft,’ says he,
‘Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
John de la Car ^note, my chaplain, a choice hour
To hear from him a matter of some moment:
Whom after under the confession's ^note seal
He solemnly had sworn that what he spoke

My chaplain to no creature living but
To me should utter ^note, with demure confidence ^note
This ^note pausingly ensued: Neither the king nor's ^note heirs,
Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive
To gain ^note the love o' the commonalty: the duke
Shall govern England. ^note’

Q. Kath.
If I know you well,
You were the duke's surveyor and lost your office
On the complaint o' the tenants: take good heed
You charge not in your spleen a noble person
And spoil your nobler ^note soul: I say, take heed;
Yes, heartily beseech ^note you.

King.
Let him on.
Go forward ^note.

Surv.
On my soul, I'll speak but truth.
I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions
The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him ^note
To ruminate on this so far, until ^note
It forged him some design, which, being believed,
It was much like to do: he answer'd ‘Tush,
It can do me no damage;’ adding further,
That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd,
The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads
Should have gone off.

King.
Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha!
There's mischief in this man: canst thou say further?

Surv.
I can, my liege.

King.
Proceed.

Surv.
Being at Greenwich,

After your highness had reproved the duke
About Sir William Blomer ^note—

King.
I remember
Of such a time: being ^note my sworn servant ^{note note},
The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence?

Surv.
‘If’ quoth he ‘I for this had been committed,
As to the Tower I thought ^note, ^note I would have play'd
The part my father meant to act upon
The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in's ^note presence; which if granted,
As he made semblance of his duty, would ^note
Have put his knife into him.’

King.
A giant traitor!

Wol.
Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom,
And this man out of prison? ^note

Q. Kath.
God mend all!

King.
There's something more would out of thee; what say'st?

Surv.
After ‘the duke his father,’ ^note with the ‘knife,’ ^note
He stretch'd him, and with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenour
Was, were he evil used, he would outgo
His father by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.

King.
There's his period,
To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd;
Call him to present trial: if he may
Find mercy in the law, 'tis his; if none,
Let him not seek't of us: by day and night! ^note
He's traitor ^note to the height. [Exeunt.

^note Scene III. [Footnote: An antechamber ^note in the palace. Enter the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands ^note.

Cham.
Is't ^note possible the spells of France should juggle
Men into such strange mysteries ^note?

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

Cham.
As far as I see, all the good our English
Have got by the late ^note voyage is but merely
A fit or two o' the 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 state so.

Sands.
They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it ^note,
That never ^note saw 'em ^note pace before, the spavin
Or ^note springhalt ^note reign'd ^note among 'em.

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

Lov.
Faith, my lord,
I hear of none but the new proclamation
That's clapp'd upon the court-gate.

Cham.
What is't for?

Lov.
The reformation of our travell'd gallants,
That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.

Cham.
I'm ^note glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs ^note
To think an English courtier may be wise,
And never see the Louvre ^note.

Lov.
They must either,
For so run the conditions, leave those remnants
Of fool and feather that they got in France,
With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto ^note, as fights and fireworks,
Abusing better men than they can be
Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean ^note
The faith they have in tennis and tall stockings,
Short blister'd ^note breeches and those ^note types of travel,
And understand again like honest men,
Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it,
They may, ‘cum privilegio,’ wear ^note away
The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at.

Sands.
'Tis time to give 'em ^note physic, their diseases
Are grown so catching.

Cham.
What a loss our ladies
Will have of these trim vanities!

Lov.
Ay, marry,
There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly 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 am glad they are going ^note,
For, sure, there's no converting of 'em: now ^note

An honest 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 ^note current music too.

Cham.
Well said, Lord Sands;
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. ^note

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

Cham.
Sir Thomas,
Whither were ^note you a-going ^note?

Lov.
To the cardinal's:
Your lordship is a guest 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 assure you.

Lov.
That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed ^note,
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
His dews fall ^note every where.

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

Sands.
He may, my lord; has ^note wherewithal: in him ^{note note}
Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine:
Men of his way ^note should be most liberal;
They are ^note set ^note here for examples.

Cham.
True, they are so;
But few now give so great ones. My barge stays ^note;
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.

Sands.
I am your lordship's. [Exeunt. ^note Scene IV. [Footnote: A Hall in York Place. ^note 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 ^note as guests, at one door; at another door, enter Sir Henry Guildford.

Guild.
Ladies, a general welcome from his grace ^note
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 ^note
As, first, good ^note company, good wine ^note, good welcome,
Can make good people. Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and Sir Thomas Lovell. ^note
O, my lord, you're ^note tardy:
The very thought of this fair company
Clapp'd wings to me.

Cham.
You are ^note young, Sir Harry Guildford.

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 'em: by my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.

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 entering. Nay, you must not freeze;
Two women placed together makes ^note cold weather:
My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking;
Pray, sit between these ladies.

Sands.
By my faith, ^note
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?

Sands.
O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too:
But he would bite none; just as I do now,
He would ^note kiss you twenty with a breath. [Kisses her. ^note

Cham.
Well said, my lord.
So, now you're ^note, fairly seated. Gentlemen,
The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.

Sands.
For my little cure ^note
Let me alone. Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, and takes his state.

Wol.
You're ^note welcome, my fair guests: that noble lady
Or gentleman that is not freely merry,
Is not my friend ^note: this, to confirm my welcome;
And to you all, good health. [Drinks. ^note

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

Wol.
My Lord Sands,
I am beholding ^note to you: cheer your neighbours ^note.
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 'em
Talk us to silence.

Anne.
You are a merry gamester,
My Lord Sands ^note.

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

Anne.
You cannot show me.

Sands.
I told your grace they ^note would talk anon. [Drum ^note and trumpet: chambers discharged.

Wol.
What's that?

Cham.
Look out there, some of ye. [Exit Servant. ^note

Wol.
What warlike voice,
And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not;
By all the laws of war you're ^note privileged. Re-enter Servant. ^note

Cham.
How now! what is't?

Serv.
A noble troop of strangers;
For so they seem: they've ^note left their barge, and landed;
And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.

Wol.
Good lord chamberlain,

Go, give 'em ^note welcome; you can speak the French tongue ^note;
And, pray, receive 'em ^note nobly and conduct 'em ^note
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. [Exit Chamberlain, attended. ^note All rise, and tables removed.
You have ^note now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
A good digestion ^note to you all: and ^note once more
I shower a welcome on ye ^note; welcome all. Hautboys. Enter the King and others ^note, as masquers, habited like shepherds ^note, ushered 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 ^note
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 ^note.

Wol.
Say, lord chamberlain,
They have ^note done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em ^note
A thousand thanks and pray 'em ^note take their pleasures ^note. [They choose ^note. The King chooses Anne Bullen.

King.
The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty,
Till now I never knew thee! [Music. Dance.

Wol.
My lord ^note!

Cham.
Your grace?

Wol.
Pray, tell 'em ^note thus much from me ^note:
There should be one amongst 'em ^note, 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.

Cham.
I will, my lord. [Whispers the Masquers ^note.

Wol.
What say they?

Cham.
Such a one, they all confess,
There is indeed; which they would have your grace ^note
Find out, and he will take it.

Wol.
Let me see then.
By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make
My royal choice.

King. [Unmasking ^note]
Ye have ^note 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 ^note unhappily.

Wol.
I am glad
Your grace is grown so 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' ^note women ^note. ^note

King.
By heaven, she is ^note a dainty one. Sweetheart,
I were unmannerly, to take you out,
And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen!
Let it go round.

Wol.
Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I' the 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 fresher air, my lord,
In the next chamber.

King.
Lead in your ladies, every one. Sweet partner,
I must not yet forsake you. Let's be merry,
Good my lord cardinal: ^note I have half ^note 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 ^note. [Exeunt with trumpets.

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