Death! my lord,

are after fuch a pagan cut too,

ey have worn out christendom. How now?

fir Thomas Lovell ?

Enter Sir THOMAS LOVELL.

'Faith, my lord,

e, but the new proclamation,

'd upon the court-gate.

What is't for?

reformation of our travell'd gallants, court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.

m glad, 'tis there; now I would pray our fieurs

English courtier may be wife,

the conditions,) leave these remnants
feather, that they got in France,
ir honourable points of ignorance
nereunto, (as fights, and fireworks;
ter men than they can be,

ign wifdom,) renouncing clean

The

The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,
Short blifter'd breeches, and thofe 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.
Sands. 'Tis time to give them phyfick, their diseases
Are grown fo catching.

Cham.

What a lofs our ladies

Will have of thefe trim vanities!

Lov.

Ay, marry,

There will be woe indeed, lords; the fly whorefons
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies;

A French fong, and a fiddle, has no fellow.

Sands. The devil fiddle them! I am glad, they're going; (For, fure, 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-fong,
And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r-lady,

This night he makes a fupper, and a great one,

To many lords and ladies; there will be

The beauty of this kingdom, I'll affure you.

Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,

ive 10 great ones. My barge ftays; hall along :-Come, good fir Thomas, e elfe; which I would not be,

e to, with fir Henry Guildford,

be comptrollers.

I am your lordship's.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

- Prefence-Chamber in York-Place.

all table under a ftate for the Cardinal, a longer uefts. Enter at one door, ANNE BULLEN, ords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as guests; at enter Sir HENRY GUILDFORD.

s, a general welcome from his grace This night he dedicates

t, and you: none here, he hopes, e bevy, has brought with her

d; he would have all as merry ompany, good wine, good welcome people.--O, my lord, you are tardy;

Enter

Thurston, dol.

the Eighth?

Henry the

Act 1, Scene last.

Published by Vernor & Hood, June 1.1800.