SANDS

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.

Kisses her

Chamberlain

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

SANDS

For my little cure,
Let me alone.

Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his state

CARDINAL 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.

Drinks

SANDS

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

CARDINAL WOLSEY

My Lord Sands,
I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours.
Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?

SANDS

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 Sands.

SANDS

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.

SANDS

I told your grace they would talk anon.

Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged