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Within this half hour hath receiv'd his fight,

A man, that ne'er faw in his life before.

K. Henry. Now God be prais'd, that to believing fouls

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 following.

Car. Here come the townsmen on proceffion, Before your Highnefs to prefent the man.

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

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 circumstance, That we, for thee, may glorify the Lord.

What haft thou been long blind, and now reftor'd? Simp. Born blind, an't please your Grace.

Wife. Ay, indeed, was he.

Suf. What woman is this?

Wife. His wife, an't like your worship.

Glo. Had'ft thou been his mother, thou couldft have better told.

K. Henry. Where wert thou born?

Simp. At Berwick in the north, an't like your Grace. 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 fleep,

By

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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
Myfelf have heard a voice to call him fo.

Car. What, art thou lame?
Simp. Ay, God Almighty help me!
Suf. How cam'ft thou fo?

Simp. A fall off of a tree.
Wife. A plum-tree, master.

Glo. How long haft 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'dft plums well, that wouldft venture fo.

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

Glo. A fubtle knave! but yet it fhall not ferve. -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'st 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?

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Suf. And yet, I think, jet did he never fee.

Glo. But, cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many.

The former Copies :

who faid, Simon, come ; Come offer at my Shrine, and I will help thee. Why, Simon? The Chronicles, that Take Notice of Glefler's detect

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, mafter.

Glo. What's thine own name?

Simp. Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master. Glo. Saunder, fit there, the lying'ft knave in Chrif tendom.

If thou hadft been born blind,

Thou might'ft as well know all our names, as thus
To name the several 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 reftore this cripple to his legs?
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.
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.

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 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 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 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.

SCENE III,

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 the countenance and confederacy
Of lady Eleanor, the Protector's wife,
The ring leader and head of all this rout,
Have practis'd dangeroufly 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

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 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, thyfelf be faultless, thou wert best.

Gla. Madam, for myself, 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 stands.
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 fhame,'

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 business 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.

Your Lady is forth-coming.] That is, your Lady is in cultody. And poife the Caufe in juftice equal feales, Whofe beam ftands fure, whofe rightful caufe prevails.] The VOL. V.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

fenfe will, I think, be mended if we read in the optative mood,

-Justice' equal fcale, Whofe beam ftand jure, whofe rightful caufe prevail.

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