Act 1, Scene 4

GUILDFORD

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, first, good company, good wine, good welcome
Can make good people.

GUILDFORD

O, my lord, you’re tardy.
The very thought of this fair company
Clapped wings to me.

CHAMBERLAIN

You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.

SANDYS

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!

SANDYS

I would I were.
They should find easy penance.

LOVELL

Faith, how easy?

SANDYS

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 ent’ring. Nay, you must not freeze;
Two women placed together makes cold weather.
My Lord Sandys, you are one will keep ’em waking.
Pray, sit between these ladies.

SANDYS

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?

SANDYS

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.

CHAMBERLAIN

Well said, my lord.
So, now you’re fairly seated. gentlemen,
The penance lies on you if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.

SANDYS

For my little cure,
Let me alone.

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.

SANDYS

Your Grace is noble.
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks
And save me so much talking.

WOLSEY

My Lord Sandys,
I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbours.
Ladies, you are not merry. Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?

SANDYS

The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have ’em
Talk us to silence.

ANNE

You are a merry gamester,
My Lord Sandys.

SANDYS

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.

SANDYS

I told your Grace they would talk anon.

WOLSEY

What’s that?

CHAMBERLAIN

Look out there, some of ye.

WOLSEY

What warlike voice,
And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not.
By all the laws of war you’re privileged.

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 ambassadors
From foreign princes.

WOLSEY

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 heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.

WOLSEY

You have now a broken banquet, but we’ll mend it.
A good digestion to you all; and once more
I shower a welcome on ye. Welcome all!

WOLSEY

A noble company! What are their pleasures?

CHAMBERLAIN

Because they speak no English, thus they prayed
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 flocks and, under your fair conduct,
Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
An hour of revels with ’em.

WOLSEY

Say, Lord Chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay ’em
A thousand thanks and pray ’em take their pleasures.

KING

The fairest hand I ever touched! O beauty,
Till now I never knew thee.

WOLSEY

My lord!

CHAMBERLAIN

Your Grace?

WOLSEY

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

CHAMBERLAIN

I will, my lord.

WOLSEY

What say they?

CHAMBERLAIN

Such a one they all confess
There is indeed, which they would have your Grace
Find out, and he will take it.

WOLSEY

Let me see, then.
By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I’ll make
My royal choice.

KING

Ye have found him, Cardinal.
You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord.
You are a churchman, or I’ll tell you, Cardinal,
I should judge now unhappily.

WOLSEY

I am glad
Your Grace is grown so pleasant.

KING

My Lord Chamberlain,
Prithee come hither. What fair lady’s that?

CHAMBERLAIN

An’t please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullen’s daughter,
The Viscount Rochford, one of her Highness’ women.

KING

By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart,
I were unmannerly to take you out
And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen!
Let it go round.

WOLSEY

Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I’ th’ privy chamber?

LOVELL

Yes, my lord.

WOLSEY

Your Grace,
I fear, with dancing is a little heated.

KING

I fear, too much.

WOLSEY

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 half 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 music knock it.