K. Henry. Poor Soul! God's goodness hath been great to thee: Let never day or night unhallowed pass, But ftill remember what the Lord hath done. Queen. Tell me, good fellow, cam'ft thou here by chance, Or of devotion, to this holy fhrine? Simp. God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd A hundred times and oftner, in my sleep, By good Saint Alban; who faid," Simpcox, come; (5) "Come, offer at my fhrine, and I will help thee. Wife. Moft,true, forfooth; and many a time and oft Myfelf have heard a voice to call him fo. Car. What, art thou lame? Simp. Ay, God Almighty help me! Simp. A fall off of a tree. Wife. A plum-tree, master. Glo. How long haft thou been blind? Simp. O, born fo, master. Glo What, and would'st 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. Mass, thou lov'dit plums well, that would'st 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 them ; (5) who faid, Simon, come; Come offer at my Shrine, and I will help thee.] The Editions here are all at odds with the Hiftory.-For why, Simon? The Chronicles, that take notice of Glo'fter's detecting this pretended Miracle, tell us, that the Impoftor, who afferted himfelf to be cur'd of Blindness, was call'd Saunder Simpcox. Simon was therefore a Corruption thro' the Negligence of the Copyifts, and continued by the Indolence of the Editors. Nor have we need of going back to Chronicles to fettle this Point, fince our Poet, in the Course of this very Scene, gives us the Fellow's Names correfpondent with the History. *In 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, master, 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't what colour jet is Suf. And yet, I think, jet did he never fee. Glo. What's his name? Simp. I know not. Glo. Nor his ? Simp. No, indeed, mafter. 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 hadst 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: Glo. My mafters of Saint Albans, Mayor. Yes, my lord, if it please your Grace. Mayor. Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. B. 39 [Exit Mellenger Glo. 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 that fame ftool. Bead. I will, my lord. Come on, Sirrah, off with your doublet quickly. Simp. Alas, mafter, what fhall I do? I am not able to ftand. [After the beadle bath bit him once, he leaps over the ftool and runs away; and they follow and cry, A miracle! K. Henry. O God, feeft thou this, and bear'ft fo 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 he 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. K. Henry. What tidings with our coufin Buckingham? And And other of your Highness' privy council, 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 vanquish'd all my powers; And vanquim'd as I am, I yield to thee, Or to the meanest groom. K. Henry. O God, what mifchiefs work the wicked Heaping confufion on their own heads thereby ! Glo. Madam, for myfelf, to heaven I do appeal, I banish her my bed and company: And give her as a prey to law and fhame, That hath dishonour'd Glofter's honest name. K. Henry. Well, for this night we will repofe us here; To morrow toward London back again, To look into this business thoroughly. And call these foul offenders to their anfwers ; And poffe the Caufe in Juftice' equal fcales, Whofe beam ftands fure, whofe rightful caufe prevails. [Flourish. Exeunt SCENE changes to the Duke of York's Palace. Enter York, Salisbury, and Warwick. York. NOW, my good lords of Salisbury and War wick, Our fimple fupper ended, give me leave, In this close walk to fatisfy myself; In craving your opinion of my Title, Sal. My lord, I long to hear it thus at full.. York. Then thus: Edward the Third, my lords, had feven fons: The firft, Edward the black Prince, Prince of Wales; York. Which now they hold by force, and not by right For Richard the first fon's heir being dead, The Iffue of the next fon fhould have reign'd. Sal. But William of Hatfield dy'd without an heir. Line I claim the Crown, had iffue Philip, a daughter, Sal. This Edmond, in the reign of Bolingbroke, Who |