Guil.
Ladies, a gen'ral 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 Sands and Lovell.
O my lord, y'are tardy;
The very thought of this fair company
Clap'd wings to me.

Cham.
You're 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 '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 easie penance.

Love.
'Faith, how easie?

Sands.
As easie 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 entring; nay you must not freeze:
Two women plac'd together make cold weather:
My lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking;
Pray sit between these ladies.

Sands.
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?

Sands.
O very mad, exceeding mad, in love too;

But he would bite none; just as I do now,
He'd kiss you twenty with a breath.

Cham.
Well said, my lord:
So now y'are fairly seated: gentlemen,
The penance lyes on you, if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.

Sands.
For my little cue,
Let me alone. Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, 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 such a bowl may hold my thanks,
And save me so much talking.

Wol.
My lord Sands,
I am beholden to you; cheer your neighbour:
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're 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 shew me.

Sands.
I told your Grace that they would talk anon. [Drum and trumpets, chambers discharged.

Wol.
What's that?

Cham.
Look out there, some 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 a Servant.

Cham.
How now, what is't?

Ser.
A noble troop of strangers,
For so they seem, have left their barge, and landed,
And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign Princes.

Wol.
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 heav'n of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. [All arise, and tables removed.
You've now a broken banquet, but we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all; and once more
I showre a welcome on ye: welcome all. Hautboys. Enter King and others as maskers, habited like Shepherds, 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
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 stocks, and under your fair conduct
Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat

An hour of revels with 'em.

Wol.
Say, Lord Chamberlain,
They've done my poor house grace: for which I pay 'em
A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures. [Chuse ladies, King and Anne Bullen.

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

Wol.
My lord.

Cham.
Your Grace?

Wol.
Pray tell 'em thus much from me:
There should be one amongst 'em by his person
More worthy this place than my self, to whom,
If I but knew him, with my love and duty
I would surrender it. [Whisper.

Cham.
I will, my lord.

Wol.
What say they?

Cham.
Such a one, they all confess,
There is indeed, which they would have your Grace
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.
You've found him, Cardinal:
You hold a fair assembly: you do well, lord.
You are a church-man, or I'll tell you, Cardinal,
I should judge you unhappily.

Wol.
I'm glad
Your Grace is grown so pleasant.

King.
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' women.

King.
By heaven she's a dainty one: sweet heart,
I were unmannerly to take you out, [To Anne Bullen.
And not to kiss 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 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: 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 best in favour. Let the musick knock it. [Exeunt with Trumpets.

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