SANDYS.
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 Sandys.
SANDYS.
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.
SANDYS.
I told your Grace they would talk anon.
[Drum and trumpet. Chambers discharged.]
WOLSEY.
What’s that?
CHAMBERLAIN.
Look out there, some of ye.
[Exit Servant.]
WOLSEY.
What warlike voice,
And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not.
By all the laws of war you’re privileged.