K. Henry. Now God be prais'd, that to believing Souls Gives Light in Darkness, Comfort in Defpair. Enter the Mayor of St. Albans, and his Brethren, bearing. K. Henry. Great is his comfort in this Earthly Vale, Although by his fight his Sin be multiplied. Glo. Stand by, my Mafters, bring him near the King, His Highness pleasure is to talk with him. K. Henry. Good-fellow, tell us here the Circumftance, That we for thee may glorifie the Lord. What, haft thou been long blind, and now reftor'd?' Suf. What Woman is this? Wife. His Wife, and't like your Worship. Glo. Hadft thou been his Mother, thou couldft have better told. K. Henry. Where wert thou born? Simp. At Berwick in the North, and't like your Grace. K. Henry. Poor Soul, God's Goodness hath been great to thee: Let never Day nor Night unhallowed pass, Cam it thou here by Chance, or of Devotion, Simp. God knows of pure Devotion, Being call'd a hundred times, and oftner, In my fleep, by good Saint Alban: Who faid, Simon, come, come offer at my Shrine, And I will help thee. Wife. Moft true, forfooth; And many a time and oft my felf have heard a Voice, To call him fo. Card What, art thou lame? Simp. Ay, God Almighty help me. Suf. How cam'it thou fo? Simp. A fall off a Tree. Wife. A Plum-tree, Mafter. Glo. How long haft thou been blind? Glo. What, and would't climb a Tree? Simp. But that in all my Life, when I was a Youth. Wife. Too true, and bought his climbing very dear. Glo. Mafs, thou lov'ft Plums well, that wouldft venture fo. Simp. Alas, good Mafter, my Wife defired fome Damfons, and made me climb, with danger of my Life. Glo. A fubtle Knave, but yet it shall not ferve: Let me fee thine Eyes, wink now, now open them, In my Opinion, yet thou feeft 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? Glo. Why that's well faid: What Colour is my Gowa of? Simp. Black, forfooth, coal-black, as Jet." K. Henry. Why then, thou know'ft what colour Jet is of? Glo. But Cloaks and Gowns, before this Day, a many. 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, and if it please you, Mafter. The lyingft Knave in Chriftendom. If thou hadft been born blind, Thou might'ft as well have known all our Names, But fuddenly to nominate them all, It is impoffible. My Lords, Saint Alban here hath done a Miracle: 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 ftraight. [Exit, Glo. Now fetch me a Stool hither by and by. Now Sirrah, if you mean to fave your felf from Whipping, leap me over this Stool, and run away, Simp. Alas Mafter, I am not able to stand 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 ftill he leap over that fame Stool. 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 ftand. [After the Beadle bath hit him once, he leaps over the Stools and runs away; and they follow, and cry, A Miracle. K.Henry. O God, feeft thou this, and beareft fo long! Queen. It made me laugh to see the Villain run. Glo. Follow the Knaye, and take this Drab away. Wife. Alas, Sir, we did it for pure need. Glo. Let him be whipt through every Market Town, 'Till they come to Berwick, from whence they came. [Exit Beadle. 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 Buckingham ? Buck. Such as my Heart doth tremble to unfold: A fort of naughty Perfons, lewdly bent, Under Under the Countenance and Confederacy [Afide to Glo'fter. Or to the meaneft Groom. K. Henry. OGod, what Mischiefs work the wicked Ones Glo. Madam, for my felf, to Heav'n I do appeal, Honour and Virtue, and convers'd with fuch, I banish her my Bed and Company, And give her as a Prey to Law and Shame, That hath dishonoured 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; Whofe Beam ftands fure, whofe rightful caufe prevails. [Exeunt Enter Enter York, Salisbury, and Warwick. York. Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, In craving your Opinion of my Title, Salis. My Lord, I long to hear it thus at fall. York. Then thus: Edward the Third, my Lords, had seven Sons: Sent his poor Queen to France, from whence the came, Thus got the House of Lancaster the Crown. York. Which now they hold by force, and not by rightá For Richard, the firft Son's Heir, being dead, The Iffue of the next Son fhould have reign'd. Sal. But William of Hatfield dy'd without an Heir. From whofe Line I claim the Crown, Had iffue Philip, a Daughter, Who married Edmond Mortimer, Earl of March Roger had Iffue, Edmond, Anne, and Eleanor, Saly |