Faith, my lord,

I hear of none but the new proclamation

That’s clapped upon the court gate.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

What is’t for?

LOVELL

The reformation of our travelled gallants

That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

I’m glad ’tis there. Now I would pray our ’messieurs’

To think an English courtier may be wise

And never see the Louvre.

LOVELL

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—as fights and fireworks,

Abusing better men than they can be

Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean

The faith they have in tennis and tall stockings,

Short blistered breeches, and those types of travel—

And understand again like honest men,

Or pack to their old playfellows. There, I take it,

They may, cum privilegio, ‘oui’ away

The lag end of their lewdness and be laughed at.

SANDS

‘Tis time to give ’em physic, their diseases

Are grown so catching.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

What a loss our ladies

Will have of these trim vanities!

LOVELL

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,

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.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

Well said, Lord Sands.

Your colt’s tooth is not cast yet?

SANDS

No, my lord,

Nor shall not while I have a stump.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN (to Lovell)

Sir Thomas,

Whither were you a-going?

LOVELL

To the Cardinal’s.

Your lordship is a guest too.

LORD 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.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

No doubt he’s noble.

He had a black mouth that said other of him.

SANDS

He may, my lord; he’s 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.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

True, they are so,

But few now give so great ones. My barge stays.

Your lordship shall along. (To Lovell) 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

1.4 Hautboys. ⌈Enter servants with⌉ a small table for Cardinal Wolsey ⌈Which they place⌉ under the cloth of state, and a longer table for the guests. Then enter at one door Anne Boleyn and divers other ladies and gentlemen as guests, and at another door enter Sir Henry Guildford

GUlLDFORD

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 feast, good company, good wine, good welcome

Can make good people.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and Sir Thomas Lovell

(To the Lord Chamberlain) O, my lord, you’re tardy.

The very thought of this fair company

Clapped wings to me.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN You are 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.

LOVELL

O, that your lordship were but now confessor

To one or two of these.

SANDS

I would I were.

They should find easy penance.

LOVELL

Faith, how easy?

SANDS

As easy as a down bed would afford it.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

Sweet ladies, will it please you sit?

(To Guildford)

Sir Harry,

Place you that side, I’ll take the charge of this.

They sit about the longer table. A noise within

His grace is ent‘ring. Nay, you must not freeze—

Two women placed together makes 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.

He sits between Anne and another

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 kiss you twenty with a breath.

He kisses her

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

Well said, my lord.

So now you’re fairly seated. 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 who takes his seat at the small table under the state

CARDINAL 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,