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It can do me no damage: adding further,
K. Hen. Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha!
There's mischief in this man: Canst thou say
Sure. I can, my liege.
K. Hen. Proceed.
Sun. Being at Greenwich,
After your highness had reprov'd the duke
K. Hen. I remember
Of such a time:—Being my sworn servant,
Sun. If, quoth he, I for this had been committed,
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; Whatsay'st?
Sure. After—the duke his father,—with the knife,—
He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger,
K. lien. There's his period,
To sheath his knife in us. He is attach'd;
A Room in the Palace.
Cham. Is it possible, the spells of France should
juggle Men into such strange mysteries?
Sands. New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous,
Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English
Sands. They have all new legs,and lame ones; one
would take it,
That never saw them pace before, the spavin,
Cham. Death! my lord,
Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,
Enter Sir Thomas Lovell.
Lov. 'Faith, my lord,
I hear of none, but the new proclamation
Cham. What is't for?
Loo. 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
To think an English courtier may be wise,
Lov. They must either
(For so run the conditions,) leave these remnants
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 away
The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at.
Sainis. Tis time to give them physick, their diseases Are grown so catching.
Cham. What a loss our ladies
Will have of these trim vanities!
Lav. Ay, marry,
There will be woe indeed, lords; the sly whoresons
Sands, The devil fiddle them! I am glad, they're
(For, sure, there's no converting of them;) now
Cham. Well said, lord Sands;
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.
Sands. No, my lord;
Nor shall not, while I have a stump.
Cham. Sir Thomas,
Whither were you a going?
Lov, To the cardinal's;
Your lordship is a guest too.
Cham. O, 'tis true:
This night he makes a supper, and a great one,
Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous mind
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
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
Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine:
Cham. True, they are so;
But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;
Sands. I am your lordship's.
The Presence-Chamber in York-Place.
Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal, a longer table for the guests. Enter at one door, Anne Sullen, and divers Lords, Ladies, and