Enter Lord Chamberlain.
CHAMBERLAIN.
Good morrow, ladies. What were’t worth to know
The secret of your conference?
ANNE.
My good lord,
Not your demand; it values not your asking.
Our mistress’ sorrows we were pitying.
CHAMBERLAIN.
It was a gentle business, and becoming
The action of good women. There is hope
All will be well.
ANNE.
Now, I pray God, amen!
CHAMBERLAIN.
You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings
Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note’s
Ta’en of your many virtues, the King’s Majesty
Commends his good opinion of you, and
Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
Than Marchioness of Pembroke, to which title
A thousand pound a year annual support
Out of his grace he adds.
ANNE.
I do not know
What kind of my obedience I should tender.
More than my all is nothing; nor my prayers
Are not words duly hallowed, nor my wishes
More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes
Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship,
Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience,
As from a blushing handmaid, to his Highness,
Whose health and royalty I pray for.
CHAMBERLAIN.
Lady,
I shall not fail t’ approve the fair conceit
The King hath of you. [Aside.] I have perused her well.
Beauty and honour in her are so mingled
That they have caught the King; and who knows yet
But from this lady may proceed a gem
To lighten all this isle? I’ll to the King,
And say I spoke with you.
ANNE.
My honoured lord.
[Exit Lord Chamberlain.]