frowning.
For my little cure,
Let me alone.
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.
Your grace is noble:
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,
And save me so much talking.
My Lord Sands,
I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours.
Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?
The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em
Talk us to silence.
You are a merry gamester,
My Lord Sands.
Yes, if I make my play.
Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam,
For 'tis to such a thing,--
You cannot show me.
I told your grace they would talk anon.
What's that?
Look out there, some of ye.
What warlike voice,
And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not;
By all the laws of war you're privileged.
How now! what is't?
A noble troop of strangers;
For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed;
And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.
Good lord chamberlain,
Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;
And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.
You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all: and once more
I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all.
A noble company! what are their pleasures?
Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd
To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame
Of this so noble and so fair assembly
This night to meet here, they could do no less
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct,
Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
An hour of revels with 'em.
Say, lord chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em
A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures.
The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty,
Till now I never knew thee!
My lord!
Your grace?
Pray, tell 'em thus much from me:
There should be one amongst 'em, by his person,
More worthy this place than myself; to whom,
If I but knew him, with my love and duty
I would surrender it.