(Tell you the duke) shall prosper: bid him strive To gain the love of the commonalty; the duke Shall govern England.

Q. Kath.

If I know you well,

You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your

office

On the complaint o'the tenants: Take good heed,
You charge not in your spleen a noble person,
And spoil your nobler soul! I
say, take heed;

Yes, heartily beseech you.

K. Hen.

Go forward.

Surv.

Let him on :

On my soul, I'll speak but truth.

I told my lord the duke, By the devil's illusions The monk might be deceiv'd; and that 'twas dang'rous for him,

To ruminate on this so far, until

It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd,
It was much like to do: He answer'd, Tush!
It can do me no damage: adding further,
That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd,
The cardinal's and sir Thomas Lovell's heads
Should have gone off.

K. Hen.

Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha! There's mischief in this man :-Canst thou say fur

ther?

Surv. I can, my liege.

K. Hen.

Surv.

Proceed.

Being at Greenwich,

After your highness had reprov'd the duke

About sir William Blomer,

K. Hen.

I remember,

Of such a time-Being my servant sworn,

The duke retain'd him his.- -But on; What hence?

Surv. If, quoth he, I for this had been committed,

As to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd The part my father meant to act upon

The usurper Richard: who, being at Salisbury,

Made suit to come in his presence; which, if

granted,

As he made semblance of his duty, would

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 tenor
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,
He's traitor to the height.

[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.

Though they be never so ridiculous,

New customs,

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 of the face; but they are shrewd ones; For when they hold them, you would swear directly, (1) Grimace.

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?

Lov.

Enter Sir Thomas Lovell.

'Faith, my lord,

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

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,
And never see the Louvre.2

They must either

Lov.
(For so run the conditions) leave these 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 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,3 wear away

The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at. Sands. 'Tis time to give them physic, their dis

eases

(1) A disease incident to horses.

(2) A palace at Paris.

(3) With authority,

Are grown so catching.

What a loss our ladies

Ay, marry,

Cham.

Will have of these trim vanities!

Lov.

There will be wo indeed, lords; the sly whore

sons

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 An honest country lord, as I am, beaten

A long time out of play, may bring his plain.

song,

And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r-lady,

Held current music too.

Well said, lord Sands;

No, my lord;

Sir Thomas,

To the cardinal's;

Nor shall not, while I have a stump.

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;I
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 Guildford,
This night, to be comptrollers.
Sands.

I am your lordship's.

[Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The presence chamber in Yorkplace. 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
Salutes ye all: This night he dedicates
To fair content, and you: none here, he hopes,
In all this noble bevy,2 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.-O, my lord, you are tardy;
Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and Sir
Thomas Lovell.

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;

(1) The speaker is at Bridewell, and the cardinal's house was at Whitehall.