Shakespeare's First Folio Part 439

Queen. If I know you well, You were the Dukes Surueyor, and lost your Office On the complaint o'th' Tenants; take good heed You charge not in your spleene a n.o.ble person, And spoyle your n.o.bler Soule; I say, take heed; Yes, heartily beseech you

Kin. Let him on: Goe forward

Sur. On my Soule, Ile speake but truth.

I told my Lord the Duke, by th' Diuels illusions The Monke might be deceiu'd, and that 'twas dangerous For this to ruminate on this so farre, vntill It forg'd him some designe, which being beleeu'd It was much like to doe: He answer'd, Tush, It can do me no damage; adding further, That had the King in his last Sicknesse faild, The Cardinals and Sir Thomas Louels heads Should haue gone off

Kin. Ha? What, so rancke? Ah, ha, There's mischiefe in this man; canst thou say further?

Sur. I can my Liedge

Kin. Proceed

Sur. Being at Greenwich, After your Highnesse had reprou'd the Duke About Sir William Blumer

Kin. I remember of such a time, being my sworn seruant, The Duke retein'd him his. But on: what hence?

Sur. If (quoth he) I for this had beene committed, As to the Tower, I thought; I would haue plaid The Part my Father meant to act vpon Th' Vsurper Richard, who being at Salsbury, Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted, (As he made semblance of his duty) would Haue put his knife into him

Kin. A Gyant Traytor

Card. Now Madam, may his Highnes liue in freedome, And this man out of Prison

Queen. G.o.d mend all

Kin. Ther's somthing more would out of thee; what say'st?

Sur. After the Duke his Father, with the knife He stretch'd him, and with one hand on his dagger, Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes, He did discharge a horrible Oath, whose tenor Was, were he euill vs'd, he would outgoe His Father, by as much as a performance Do's an irresolute purpose

Kin. There's his period, To sheath his knife in vs: he is attach'd, Call him to present tryall: if he may Finde mercy in the Law, 'tis his; if none, Let him not seek't of vs: By day and night Hee's Traytor to th' height.

Exeunt.

Scaena Tertia.

L.Ch. Is't possible the spels of France should iuggle Men into such strange mysteries?

L.San. New customes, Though they be neuer so ridiculous, (Nay let 'em be vnmanly) yet are follow'd

L.Ch. As farre as I see, all the good our English Haue got by the late Voyage, is but meerely A fit or two o'th' face, (but they are shrewd ones) For when they hold 'em, you would sweare directly Their very noses had been Councellours To Pepin or Clotharius, they keepe State so

L.San. They haue all new legs, And lame ones; one would take it, That neuer see 'em pace before, the Spauen A Spring-halt rain'd among 'em

L.Ch. Death my Lord, Their cloathes are after such a Pagan cut too't, That sure th'haue worne out Christendome: how now?

What newes, Sir Thomas Louell?

Enter Sir Thomas Louell.

Louell. Faith my Lord, I heare of none but the new Proclamation, That's clapt vpon the Court Gate

L.Cham. What is't for?

Lou. The reformation of our trauel'd Gallants, That fill the Court with quarrels, talke, and Taylors

L.Cham. I'm glad 'tis there; Now I would pray our Monsieurs To thinke an English Courtier may be wise, And neuer see the Louure

Lou. They must either (For so run the Conditions) leaue those remnants Of Foole and Feather, that they got in France, With all their honourable points of ignorance Pertaining thereunto; as Fights and Fire-workes, Abusing better men then they can be Out of a forreigne wisedome, renouncing cleane The faith they haue in Tennis and tall Stockings, Short blistred Breeches, and those types of Trauell; And vnderstand againe like honest men, Or pack to their old Playfellowes; there, I take it, They may c.u.m Priuilegio, wee away The lag end of their lewdnesse, and be laugh'd at

L.San. Tis time to giue 'em Physicke, their diseases Are growne so catching

L.Cham. What a losse our Ladies Will haue of these trim vanities?

Louell. I marry, There will be woe indeed Lords, the slye whorsons Haue got a speeding tricke to lay downe Ladies.

A French Song, and a Fiddle, ha's no Fellow

L.San. The Diuell fiddle 'em, I am glad they are going, For sure there's no conuerting of 'em: now An honest Country Lord as I am, beaten A long time out of play, may bring his plaine song, And haue an houre of hearing, and by'r Lady Held currant Musicke too

L.Cham. Well said Lord Sands, Your Colts tooth is not cast yet?

L.San. No my Lord, Nor shall not while I haue a stumpe

L.Cham. Sir Thomas, Whither were you a going?

Lou. To the Cardinals; Your Lords.h.i.+p is a guest too

L.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 Kingdome Ile a.s.sure you

Lou. That Churchman Beares a bounteous minde indeed, A hand as fruitfull as the Land that feeds vs, His dewes fall euery where

L.Cham. No doubt hee's n.o.ble; He had a blacke mouth that said other of him

L.San. He may my Lord, Ha's wherewithall in him; Sparing would shew a worse sinne, then ill Doctrine, Men of his way, should be most liberall, They are set heere for examples

L.Cham. True, they are so; But few now giue so great ones: My Barge stayes; Your Lords.h.i.+p shall along: Come, good Sir Thomas, We shall be late else, which I would not be, For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guilford This night to be Comptrollers

L.San. I am your Lords.h.i.+ps.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Hoboies. A small Table vnder a State for the Cardinall, a longer Table for the Guests. Then Enter Anne Bullen, and diuers other Ladies, & Gentlemen, as Guests at one Doore; at an other Doore enter Sir Henry Guilford.

S.Hen.Guilf. Ladyes, A generall welcome from his Grace Salutes ye all; This Night he dedicates To faire content, and you: None heere he hopes In all this n.o.ble Beuy, has brought with her One care abroad: hee would haue all as merry: As first, good Company, good wine, good welcome, Can make good people.

Enter L[ord]. Chamberlaine L[ord]. Sands, and Louell.

O my Lord, y'are tardy; The very thought of this faire Company, Clapt wings to me

Cham. You are young Sir Harry Guilford

San. Sir Thomas Louell, had the Cardinall But halfe my Lay-thoughts in him, some of these Should finde a running Banket, ere they rested, I thinke would better please 'em: by my life, They are a sweet society of faire ones

Lou. O that your Lords.h.i.+p were but now Confessor, To one or two of these

San. I would I were, They should finde easie pennance