Sivut kuvina

Enter the Duke of York, and the Duke of Buckingham,

with their Guard, and break in. York. Lay hands upon these traitors, and their trash: Beldame, I think we watch'd you at an inch. What, Madam, are you there? the King and Realm Are deep indebted for this piece of pains ; My lord Protector will, I doubt it not, See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts.

Elean. Not half so bad as thine to England's King, Injurious Duke, that threat it where is no cause.

Buck. True, Madam, none at all: What call you this? Away with them, let them be clap'd up close, And kept apart. You, Madam, Thall with us. Stafford, take her to thee. We'll see your Trinkets here forth-coming all.

[Exeunt Guards with Jordan, Southwel, &c. York. Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd her A pretty Plot, well chose to build upon.

[well ; Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's Writ. What have we here?

[Reads. The Duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose ; But him out-live, and die a violent death. Why, this is just, Aio te Æacida Romanos vincere poffe. Well, to the rest : Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk ? "By water Mall be die, and take bis end. What shall betide the Duke of Somerset? Let him mun castles, Safer shall be be upon the sandy plains, Than where castles mounted stand. Come, come, my lords ; These Oracles are hardily attain'd, (5) And hardly understood.


(5) Thef Oracles are hardly attain'd, And hardly understood.] Not only the Lameness of the Versification, but the Imperfection of the Sense too, made me fuspect this paffage to be corrupt. The Meaning is very poor, as it stands in all the printed Copies; but I have formerly, by the Addition of a single Letter, both


The King is now in progress tow'rds St. Albans ;
With him, the husband of this lovely lady:
Thither go these news, as faft as horse can carry them:
A sorry breakfast for my lord Protector.

Buck. Your Grace shall give me leave, my lord of York,
To be the Post, in hope of his reward.

York. At your pleasure, my good lord.
Who's within there, ho?

Enter a Serving-man.


lords of Salisbury, and Warwick, To fup with me to morrow night. Away! [Exeunt.

help'd the Verse and the Sentiment. York, seizing the Parties and their Papers, says, he'll see the Devil's Writ; and finding the Wizard's Anfwers intricate and ambiguous, he makes this general Comment upon fuch fort of Intelligence, as I have restor'd the Text :

These Oracles are hardily attain'd,

And bardly understood. i, e. A great Risque and Hazard is run to obtain them, (viz. going to the Devil for them, as 'twas pretended and suppos'd :) and likewise the incurring severe Penalties by the Statute-Law against such Practices ; and yet after these hardy Steps taken, the Informations arc lo perplex'd that they are hardly to be understood.



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Enter King Henry, Queen, Protector, Cardinal, and Suf

folk, with Faulkners hallowing.


ELIEVE me, lords, for Aying at the brook,

I saw not better sport these seven years day;

Yet by your leave, the wind was very high,
And, ten-to one, old Joan had not gone out.
K. Henry. But what a point, my lord,

Faulcon made,
And what a pitch she flew above the rest :
To see how God in all his creatures works!
Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high.

Suf. No marvel, an it like your Majesty,
My lord Protector's Hawks do towre so well;
They know, their Master loves to be aloft,
And bears his thoughts above his Faulcon's pitch.

Glo. My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind,
That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.

Car. I thought as much, he'd be above the clouds.

Glo. Ay, my lord Card'nal, how think you by that? Were is not good, your Grace could fly to heav'n?

K. Henry. The treasury of everlasting joy !

Car. Thy heaven is on earth, thine eyes and thoughts Beat on a Crown, the treasure of thy heart: Pernicious Protector, dangerous Peer, That Smooth'st it so with King and Commonweal!


Glo. What, Card'nal! Is your priesthood grown fo

peremptory ? Tantæne animis Cæleftibus iræ ?
Churchmen fo hot? good uncle, hide such malice.
With such Holiness can you do ic?

Suf. No malice, Sir, no more than well becomes .
So good a quarrel, and so bad a Peer.

Glo. As who, my lord?

Suf. Why, as yourself, my lord;
An't like your lordly, lord Protectorship.

Glo. Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence.
Q. Mar. And thy ambition, Gloster.

K. Henry. I pr’ythee, peace, good Queen ;
And whet not on these too too furious Peers,
For blessed are the peace-makers on earth.

Car. Let me be blessed for the peace I make,
Against this proud Protector, with my sword !
Glo. Faith, holy uncle, would 'cwere come to

Car. Marry, when thou dar'ft.
Glo. Make up no factious numbers for the

In thine own person answer thy abuse.
Car. Ay, where thou dar'tt not peep : and,

if thou dar'it,
This Ev'ning on the east side of the grove.

K. Henry. How now, my lords?

Car. Believe me, cousin Gloʻster,
Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly,
We'd had more sport-Come with thy two-hand
sword. (6)

[Afide to Glo. Glo. True, uncle.


(6) Come with thy two-hand Sword.
Glo. True, Uncle, are ye advis'd? The east side of the Grove.

Cardinal, I am with You.] Thus is this whole Speech plac'd to Gloucester, in all the Editions: but surely, with great Inadvertence. It is the Cardinal, who first appoints the East Side of the Grove for the place of Duell : and how finely does it express the Rancour and Impetuosity of the Cardinal, for Fear Gloucester should mistake, to repeat the Appointment, and ask his Antagonist if he takes him right! So I have ventur'd to regulate the Speeches ; as it improves a Beauty, and avoids an Absurdity.


Car. Are you advis'd ?- The east side of the Grove. Glo. Cardinal, I am with


[Aside. K. Henry. Why how now, uncle Glo'ster? Glo. Talking of hawking ; nothing else, my lord.— Now, by God's mother, Priest, I'll shave your crown

for this, Or all my Fence shall fail.

[Aide. Car. Aside.] Medice; teipsum. Protector, see to’t well, protect your self. [lords.

K. Henry. The winds grow high, so do your stomachs,
How irksome is this musick to my heart?
When such strings jar, what hopes of harmony?
pray, my lords, let me compound this strife.

Enter One, crying, A Miracle !
Glo. What means this noise?
Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim?

One. A miracle, a miracle !
Suf. Come to the King, and tell him what miracle.

One. Forsooth, a blind man at St. Alban's shrine,
Within this half hour hath receiv'd his light;
A man, that ne'er faw in his life before.

K. Henry. Now God be prais'd, that to believing souls
Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair !
Enter the Mayor of St. Albans, and his brethren, bearing

Simpcox between two in a chair, Simpcox's wife folo lowing.

Car. Here come the townsmen on procession, Before your Highness to present the man.

K. Henry. Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, Though by his fight his sin be multiply'd.

Glo. Stand by, my masters, bring him near the King, His Highness' pleasure is to talk with him.

K. Henry. Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance,
That we, for thee, may glorifie the Lord.
What, haft thou been long blind, and now restor'd?

Simp. Born blind, and't please your Grace. .
Wife. Ay, indeed, was he.
Suf. What woman is this?

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