William Shakespeare - King Henry the Eighth

Exeunt

An ante-chamber in the palace.

Enter Chamberlain and SANDS

Chamberlain

Is't possible the spells of France should juggle

Men into such strange mysteries?

SANDS

New customs,

Though they be never so ridiculous,Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

Chamberlain

As far as I see, all the good our English

Have got by the late voyage is but merelyA fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones;For when they hold 'em, you would swear directlyTheir very noses had been counsellorsTo Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so.

SANDS

They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it,

That never saw 'em pace before, the spavinOr springhalt reign'd among 'em.

Chamberlain

Death! my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,That, sure, they've worn out Christendom.

Enter LOVELL

How now!

What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?

LOVELL

Faith, my lord,

I hear of none, but the new proclamationThat's clapp'd upon the court-gate.

Chamberlain

What is't for?

LOVELL

The reformation of our travell'd gallants,

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

Chamberlain

I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs

To think an English courtier may be wise,And never see the Louvre.

LOVELL

They must either,

For so run the conditions, leave those remnantsOf fool and feather that they got in France,With all their honourable point of ignorancePertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks,Abusing better men than they can be,Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing cleanThe faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,Short blister'd 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,' wear awayThe lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at.

SANDS

'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases

Are grown so catching.

Chamberlain

What a loss our ladies

Will have of these trim vanities!

LOVELL

Ay, marry,

There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresonsHave 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: nowAn honest country lord, as I am, beatenA long time out of play, may bring his plainsongAnd have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady,Held current music too.

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.

Chamberlain

Sir Thomas,

Whither were you a-going?

LOVELL

To the cardinal's:

Your lordship is a guest too.

Chamberlain

O, 'tis true:

This night he makes a supper, and a great one,To many lords and ladies; there will beThe 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 every where.

Chamberlain

No doubt he's noble;

He had a black mouth that said other of him.

SANDS

He may, my lord; 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.

Chamberlain

True, they are so:

But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;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 GuildfordThis night to be comptrollers.

SANDS

I am your lordship's.

Exeunt

A Hall in York Place.

Hautboys. A small table under a state for CARDINAL WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter GUILDFORD

GUILDFORD

Ladies, a general welcome from his grace

Salutes ye all; this night he dedicatesTo fair content and you: none here, he hopes,In all this noble bevy, has brought with herOne care abroad; he would have all as merryAs, first, good company, good wine, good welcome,Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy:

Enter Chamberlain, SANDS, and LOVELL

The very thought of this fair company

Clapp'd wings to me.

Chamberlain

You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.

SANDS

Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal

But half my lay thoughts in him, some of theseShould 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.

Chamberlain

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 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 would kiss you twenty with a breath.

Kisses her

Chamberlain

Well said, my lord.

So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen,The penance lies on you, if these fair ladiesPass away frowning.

SANDS

For my little cure,

Let me alone.

Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his 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;And to you all, good health.

Drinks

SANDS

Your grace is noble:

Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,And save me so much talking.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

My Lord Sands,

I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours.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 'emTalk us to silence.

ANNE

You are 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 show me.

SANDS

I told your grace they would talk anon.

Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged

CARDINAL WOLSEY

What's that?

Chamberlain

Look out there, some of ye.

Exit Servant

CARDINAL WOLSEY

What warlike voice,

And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not;By all the laws of war you're privileged.

Re-enter Servant

Chamberlain

How now! what is't?

Servant

A noble troop of strangers;

For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed;And hither make, as great ambassadorsFrom foreign princes.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Good lord chamberlain,

Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'emInto our presence, where this heaven of beautyShall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.

Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed

You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.

A good digestion to you all: and once moreI shower a welcome on ye; welcome all.

Hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VIII and others, as masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Chamberlain. They pass directly before CARDINAL WOLSEY, and gracefully salute him