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By good St. Alban; who faid, "Simpcox, come; "Come, offer at my fhrine, and I will help thee."

Wife. Moft true, forfooth; and many a time and oft Myself have heard a voice to call him fo.

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Car. What, art thou lame?
Simp. Ay, God Almighty help me!
Suf. How cam'st thou fo?
Simp. A fall off of a tree.
Wife. A plum-tree, master.
Glo. How long hast thou been blind?
Simp. O, born fo, mafter.

Glo. What, and wouldft climb a tree?

Simp. But once in all my life, when I was a youth.

Wife. Too true, and bought his climbing very dear.

Glo. Mafs, thou lov'dit plums well, that wouldft venture fo.

Simp. Alas, good Sir, my wife defir'd fome damfons, And made me climb, with danger of my life.

Glo. A fubtle knave! but yet it fhall not serve. -Let's fee thine eyes-wink now-now open themIn my opinion, yet, thou fee'ft not well.

Simp. Yes, mafter, clear as day; I thank God and Saint Alban.

Glo. Say'ft thou me fo? what colour is this cloak of? Simp. Red, mafter, red as blood.

Glo. Why, that's well faid: what colour is my gown of?.

Simp. Black, forfooth, coal black, as jet.

K. Henry. Why then thou know'ft what colour jet is of ?

Suf. And yet, I think, jet did he never fee.
Glo. But, cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many.

The former Copics:

the faid, Simon, come; Come offer at my Shrine, and I will help thee.] Why, Simon? The Chronicles, that the Notice of Glofier's dete&

ing this pretended Miracle, tell us, that the Impoftor, who afferted himself to be cur'd of Blindnefs, was called Saunder Simpcox.-Simen was therefore a Corruption. THEOBALD.

Wife. Never before this day, in all his life.
Glo. Tell me, Sirrah, what's my name?
Simp. Alas, mafter, I know not.
Glo. What's his name?

Simp. I know not.

Glo. Nor his?

Simp. No, indeed, master.

Glo. What's thine own name?

Simp. Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, mafter. Glo. Saunder, fit there, the lying'st knave in Chriftendom.

If thou hadst been born blind,

Thou might'ft as well know all our names, as thus
To name the feveral colours we do wear.
Sight may diftinguish colours,

But fuddenly to nominate them all,
It is impoffible.

My Lords, Saint Alban here hath done a miracle,
Would ye not think that Cunning to be great,
That could restore this cripple to his legs?
Simp. O mafter, that you could!
Glo, My masters of Saint Albans,
Have you not beadles in your town,
And things call'd whips?

Mayor. Yes, my Lord, if it please your Grace.
Glo. Then fend for one prefently.
Mayor. Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight.
[Exit Meflenger.

Glo. Now fetch me a ftool hither. Now, Sirrah, if you mean to fave yourself from whipping, leap me over this ftool, and run away.

Simp. Alas, mafter, I am not able to ftand alone, you go about to torture me in vain.

Enter a Beadle with Whips.

Glo. Well, Sir, we must have you find your legs. Sirrah, beadle, whip him till he leap over the fame ftool.


Bead. I will, my Lord. Come on, Sirrah. Off with your doublet quickly.

Simp. Alas, mafter, what shall I do? I am not able to stand.

[After the beadle bath bit him once, he leaps over the Stool and runs away; and they follow and cry, A miracle!

K. Henry. O God, fee'st thou this, and bear'st so long!

Queen. It made me laugh to fee the villain run. Glo. Follow the knave, and take this drab away. Wife. Alas, Sir, we did it for pure need. Glo. Let them be whipt through every market town, till they come to Berwick, from whence they came. [Exit beadle with the woman. Car. Duke Humphry has done a miracle to day. Suf. True, made the lame to leap, and fly away. Glo. But you have done more miracles than I; You made in a day, my Lord, whole towns to fly.




Enter Buckingham.

K. Henry. What tidings with our coufin Bucking bam?

Buck. Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold.
A fort of naughty perfons, lewdly bent,
Under the countenance and confederacy
Of lady Eleanor, the Protector's wife,
The ring leader and head of all this rout,
Have practis'd dangerously against your state.
Dealing with witches and with Conjurers,
Whom we have apprehended in the fact,
Raifing up wicked Spirits from under ground,
Demanding of King Henry's life and death,
And other of your Highness' Privy-council,


As more at large your Grace fhall understand.
Car. And fo, my Lord Protector, by this means
Your Lady is forth-coming yet at London:
This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge.
'Tis like, my Lord, you will not keep your hour.
[Afide to Gio'fter.
Glo. Ambitious Church-man! leave t'afflict my heart!
Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers;
And vanquish'd as I am, I yield to thee,
Or to the meanest groom.

K. Henry. O God, what mifchiefs work the wicked ones,

Heaping confufion on their own heads thereby!

Queen. Glofter, fee here the tainture of thy neft, And look, thyself be faultlefs, thou wert beft.

Glo. Madam, for my felf, to heav'n I do appeal,
How I have lov'd my King and common-weal;
And for my wife, I know not how it ftands.
Sorry am I to hear what I have heard ;
Noble fhe is; but if fhe have forgot
Honour and Virtue, and convers'd with fuch
As, like to pitch, defile Nobility,
I banish her my bed and company,
And give her as a prey to law and shame,`
That hath difhonour'd Glo'fter's honeft name.

K. Henry. Well, for this night we will repofe us here;

To morrow toward London back again,
To look into this bufinefs thoroughly.

And call these foul offenders to their anfwers; 'And poife the Caufe in Juftice' equal scales, Whofe beam ftands fure, whofe rightful caufe prevails. [Flourish. Excunt.

9 Your Lady is forth-coming.] That is, your Lady is in cuftody. And poife the Caufe in juftice equal fcales,

Whofe beam ftands fure, whofe rightful cause prevails. ] The VOL. V.

fenfe will, I think, be mended if we read in the optative mood, -Justice equal scale, Whofe team and jure, shefe rightful caufe prevail.




Changes to the Duke of York's Palace.
Enter York, Salisbury, and Warwick.

York. NOW, my good Lords of Salisbury and


Our fimple fupper ended, give me leave,
In this close walk to fatisfy myself;
In craving your opinion of my Title,
Which is infallible, to England's Crown.

Sal. My Lord, I long to hear it thus at full.
War. Sweet York, begin; and if thy Claim be good,
The Nevills are thy Subjects to command..

York. Then thus:

Edward the Third, my Lords, had feven fons:
The firft, Edward the black Prince, Prince of Wales;
The fecond, William of Hatfield; and the third,
Lionel Duke of Clarence; next to whom
Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster;
The fifth was Edmond Langley, Duke of York;
The fixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Glofter.
William of Windfor was the seventh and laft.
Edward the black Prince dy'd before his father,
And left behind him Richard, his only fon,
Who, after Edward the Third's death, reign'd King;
Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster,
The eldest fon and heir of John of Gaunt,
Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth,
Seiz'd on the realm; depos'd the rightful King;
Sent his poor Queen to France from whence fhe came,
And him to Pomfret; where, as all you know,
Harmless King Richard trait'rously was murder'd.
War. Father, the Duke hath told the truth;
Thus got the houfe of Lancafter the Crown.

• In craving your opinion of
my Title,

Which is infallible, to England's

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cronun.] I know not well whether he means the opinion or the title is infallible..


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