SANDYS.
For my little cure,
Let me alone.
Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey and takes his state.
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.]
SANDYS.
Your Grace is noble.
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks
And save me so much talking.
WOLSEY.
My Lord Sandys,
I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbours.
Ladies, you are not merry. Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?
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.