By good St. Alban; who faid, Simpcox, come; Car. What, art thou lame? Simp. A fall off of a tree. Wife. A plum-tree, master. Glo. How long haft thou been blind? 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'dft plums well, that woukift 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 shall 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. The former Copics: uke jaid, Simon, come; Come offer at my Shrine, and I wil help thee.] Why, Simon? The Chronicles, that the Notice of Glofier's dete ing this pretended Miracle, telf us, that the Impoftor, who afferted himself to be cur'd of Blindnefs, was called Saunder Simpcox.-Simon was therefore a Corruption. THEOBALD. Wife. Never before this day, in all his life. Glo. What's his name? Simp. I know not. 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'ft knave in Chriftendom. If thou hadft been born blind, Thou might'ft as well know all our names, as thus Sight may diftinguish colours, But fuddenly to nominate them all, It is impoffible. My Lords, Saint Alban here hath done a miracle, Simp. O mafter, that you could! Glo, My mafters of Saint Albans, Have you not beadles in your town, And things call'd whips?" Mayor. Yes, my Lord, if it please your Grace. Mayor. Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. [Exit Messenger. 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. Glo. Well, Sir, we muft have you find your legs. Sirrah, beadle, whip him till he leap over the fame ftool. Bead. 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 hit him once, he leaps over the Stool and runs away; and they follow and cry, A miracle! K. Henry. O.God, fee'ft thou this, and bear'ft 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. K. Henry. What tidings with our coufin Buckingham? Buck. Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold. As 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 Glo'fter. Glo. Ambitious Church-man! leave t'afflict my heart! Sorrow and grief have vanquifh'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 ! Glo. Madam, for my felf, to heav'n I do appeal, I banish her my bed and company, And give her as a prey to law and fhame, K. Henry. Well, for this night we will repose 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 fcales, Whofe beam ftands fure, whofe rightful caufe prevails. 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 caule prevails.] The VOL. V. [Flourish. Exeunt. fenfe will, I think, be mended if we read in the optative mood, -Justice equal feale, Whefe team ftand jure, shefe rightful caufe prevail. SCENE IV. Changes to the Duke of York's Palace. Enter York, Salisbury, and Warwick. York. NOW, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, Our fimple supper ended, give me leave, Sal. My Lord, I long to hear it thus at full. York. Then thus: Edward the Third, my Lords, had feven fons: Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster; * In craving your opinion of Which is infallible, to England's crorun. I know not well whether he means the opinion or the title is infallible.. York. |