Held current mufick too.

Cham. Well faid, Lord Sands;
Your colt's tooth is not caft yet?
Sands. No, my Lord,

Nor fhall not, while I have a ftump.
Cham. Sir Thomas,
Whither are you going?

Love. To the cardinal's;
Your Lordship is a guest too.
Cham. O, 'tis true;

This night he makes a fupper, and a great one,
To many Lords and Ladies; there will be

The beauty of this kingdom, I'll affure you.

Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous mind, indeed; A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us,

His dew falls ev'ry where.

Cham. No doubt, he's noble;

He had a black mouth, that faid other of him.
Sands. He may, my Lord,h'as wherewithal: in him, (9)
Sparing would fhew a worfe fin than ill doctrine.
Men of his way fhould be most liberal,
They're fet here for examples.

Cham. True, they are fo;

But few now give fo great ones: my barge ftays; Your Lordship fhall along: come, good Sir Thomas, We fhall be late elfe, which I would not be,

For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guilford,

This night to be comptrollers.

Sands. I'm your Lordship's.

(9)

-b'as wherewithal in him;

[Exeunt.

Sparing would few &c.] Thus this has hitherto been falfely pointed. The wherewithal, intended by Lord Sands, was not in the Cardinal's internal Wealth, the Bounty of his Mind; but the Goods of Fortune, his outward Treafures, large Revenues; which would have aggravated the Sin of Parfimony in him.

SCENE

SCENE changes to York-house.

Hautboys. A fmall table under a ftate for the Cardinal, a longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne Bullen, and divers other ladies and gentlewomen, as guests, at one door; at another door, enter Sir Henry Guilford.

Guil. Ladies, a gen'ral welcome from his Grace

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, (10)
Can make good people.

Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands and Lovell.

O my Lord, y'are tardy;

The very thoughts 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, fome of these
Should find a running banquet, ere they refted:
I think, would better pleafe 'em: by my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.

Lov. O, that your Lordship were but now confeffor To one or two of these.

Sands. I would, I were;

They should find easy penance.

Lov. 'Faith, how easy?

Sands. As eafy, as a down-bed would afford it.

(10) As, firft, good Company, good Wine, &c.] As this Paffage has been all along pointed, Sir Harry Guilford is made to include all thefe under the firft Article; and then gives us the drop as to what fhould follow. The Poet, I am perfuaded, wrote;

As firft-good Company, good Wine, good Welcome, &c.

i. e. he would have you as merry as thefe three Things can make you, the best Company in the Land, of the beft Rank, good Wine, &c,

Cham

Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you fit ? Sir Harry, Place you that fide, 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, fit between these ladies.

Sands. By my faith,

And thank your Lordship. By your leave, fweet 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; juft as I do now, He'd kiss you twenty with a breath.

Cham. Well faid, my Lord:

So, now y'are fairly feated: gentlemen,
The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies
Pafs away frowning.

Sands. For my

Let me alone.

little cure,

Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolfey, and takes his ftate.

Wol. Y'are welcome, my fair guefts; 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 fuch a bowl may hold my thanks,
And fave me fo much talking.

Wol. My Lord Sands,

I am beholden to you; cheer your neighbour;
Ladies, you are not merry; gentlemen,
Whofe fault is this?

Sands. The red wine firft must rise

[Drinks.

In their fair cheeks, my Lord, then we fhall have 'em Talk us to filence.

Anne. You're a merry gamefter,

My Lord Sands.

Sands. Yes, if I make my play:

Here's to your Ladyship, and pledge it, Madam:

For

For 'tis to fuch a thing

Anne. You cannot fhew me.

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

Wol. What's that?

Cham. Look out there, fome of ye.

Wol. What warlike voice,

And to what end is this? nay, ladies, fear not;
By all the laws of war y'are privileg'd.

Enter a Servant.

Cham. How now, what is't?

Serv. A noble troop of ftrangers,

For fo they feem, 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 fpeak the French tongue;
And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em
Into our prefence, where this heav'n of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.
[All arife, and tables removed.
You've now a broken banquet, but we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all; and, once more,
I show'r a welcome on ye: welcome all.

Hautboys. Enter King and others as Mafkers, habited like
Shepherds, ufher'd by the Lord Chamberlain. They pass
directly before the Cardinal, and gracefully falute him.
A noble company! what are their pleasures?

Cham. Because they fpeak no English, thus thy pray'd
To tell your Grace, that having heard by fame
Of this fo noble and fo fair affembly,

This night to meet here, they could do no lefs,
Out of the great refpe&t they bear to beauty,

But leave their flocks, and under

your fair conduct Crave leave to view thefe ladies, and entreat

An hour of revels with 'em.

Wol. Say, Lord Chamberlain,

They've done my poor houfe grace: for which I pay 'em

A thou

A thousand thanks, and pray 'em, take their pleasures. [Chufe ladies, King and Anne Bullen.

King. The faireft hand I ever touch'd! O beauty, 'Till now I never knew thee.

Wol. My Lord,

Cham. Your Grace.

[Mufick. Dance.

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

I would furrender it.

Cham. I will, my Lord.

Wol. What fay they?

Cham. Such a one, they all confefs,

[Whisper.

There is, indeed; which they would have your Grace Find out, and he will take it.

Wol. Let me fee then:

By all your good leaves, gentlemen, here I'll make My royal choice.

King. You've found him, Cardinal:

You hold a fair affembly: you do well, Lord.
You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, Cardinal,
I fhould judge now unhappily.

Wol. I'm glad,

Your Grace is grown fo 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 Highnefs' women
King. By heaven, fhe's a dainty one : fweet 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.