There's mischief in this man: -Canst thou say fur ther? Surv. I can, my liege. K. Hen. Proceed. Surv. Being at Greenwich, After your highness had reprov'd the duke K. Hen. I remember, Of such a time:-Being my servant sworn, The duke retain'd him his.But on; What hence? The usurper Richard: who, being at Salisbury, Have put his knife into him. K. Hen. A giant traitor! Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, And this man out of prison? Q. Kath. God mend all! K. Hen. There's something more would out of thee; What say'st? Surv. After the duke his father,-with the knife,He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, Another spread on his breast, mounting his eyes, He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenour Was,-Were he evil us'd, he would out-go His father, by as much as a performance Does an irresolute purpose. K. Hen. There's his period, To sheath 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, [Exeunt: SCENE III.-A Room in the Palace. Enter the Lord Chamberlain, and Lord SANDS. Cham. Is it possible, the spells of France should juggle Men into such strange mysteries? Sands. New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous, Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd. Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English Have got by the late voyage, is but merely A fit or two o'the face; but they are shrewd ones; For, when they hold them, 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, That never saw them pace before, the spavin, A springhalt reign'd among them. Cham. Death! my lord, Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, That, sure, they have worn out christendom. How now? What news, sir Thomas Lovell ? Enter Sir THOMAS LOVELL. Lov. 'Faith, my lord, I hear of none, but the new proclamation Cham. What is't for? Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants, That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. Cham. I am glad, 'tis there; now I would pray our monsieurs To think an English courtier may be wise, Lov. They must either (For so run the conditions,) leave these remnants Out of a foreign wisdom,) renouncing clean Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it, The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at. 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 them! I am glad, they're going; (For, sure, there's no converting of them ;) now A long time out of play, may bring his plain-song, Cham. Well said, lord Sands; Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. Nor shall not, while I have a stump. Cham. Sir Thomas, Whither were you a-going? 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, A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; His dews fall every where. Cham. No doubt, he's noble ; He had a black mouth, that said other of him. Sands. He may, my lord, he has 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. Cham. True, they are so; But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; We shall be late else: which I would not be, Sands. I am your lordship's. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Presence-Chamber in York-Place. Hautboys. A small Table under a State for the Cardinal, a longer Table for the Guests. Enter at one Door ANNE BULLEN, and divers Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as Guests; at another Door, enter Sir HENRY GUILDFORD. Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace To fair content, and you: none here, he hopes, Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord SANDS, and Sir The very thought of this fair company Clapp'd wings to me. Cham. 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 them: 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. |