To present your Highness with the man. * K. Hen. Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, * Although by his sight his sin be multiply'd. *Glo. Stand by, my Masters, bring him near the King, *His Highness' pleasure is to talk with him. * K. Hen. Good fellow, tell us here the cir ⚫cumstance, *That we for thee may glorify the Lord. Suf. What woman is this? Wife. His wife, an't like your Worship. have better told. K. Hen. Where wert thou born? Simp. At Berwick in the north, an't like your Grace. K. Hen. Poor soul! God's goodness hath been great to thee: Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, But still remember what the Lord hath done. Q. Mar. Tell me, good fellow, cam'st thou here by chance, *Or of devotion, to this holy shine? . Simp. God knows, of pure devotion; being A hundred times, and oftner, in my sleep come; -- Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee. * Wife. Most true, forsooth; aud many time and oft * Myself have heard a voice to call him so. VOL. XI. 3 Car. What, art thou lame? Simp. A fall off of a tree. Wife. A plum-tree, Master. Glo. How long hast thou been blind? Glo. What, and would'st 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. 'Mass, thou lov'dst plums well, that would'st venture so. Simp. Alas, good Master, my wife desir'd some damsons, And made me climb, with danger of my life. * Glo. A subtle knave! but yet it shall not open them: In my opinion, yet thou see'st not well. Glo. Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of? Simp. Red, Master; red as blood. Glo. Why, that's well said: what colour is my gown of? Simp. Black, forsooth; coal-black, as jet. K. Hen. Why then, thou know'st what colour jet is of? Suf. And yet, I think, jet did he never see. Gio. But cloaks, and gowns, before this day, a many. *Wife. Never, before this day, in all his life. Glo. Tell me, sirrah, what's my name? Simp. I know not. Glo. Nor his? Simp. No, indeed, master. Glo. What's thine own name? Simp. Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master. Glo. Then Saunder, sit thou there, the lying'st knave In Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, Thou might'st as well have known our names, as thus To name the several colours we do wear. My Lords, saint Albau here hath done a miracle ; Glo. My Masters of Saint Albans, have you not beadles in your town, and things call'd whips? May. Yes, my Lord, if it please your Grace. Glo. Then send for one presently. May. Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. [Exeunt an Attendant. Glo. Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. [A stool brought out.] Now, sirrah, if mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me you over this stool, and run away. Simp. Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone: You go about to torture me in vain, Re-enter Attendant, with the Beadle. Glo. Well, Sir, we must have you find your legs. Sirrah beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool. - Come on, sirrab; Bead. I will, my Lord. off with your doublet quickly. Simp. Alas, Master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand. [After the Beadle hat hit him once, he leaps over the stool, and runs away; and the people follow, and cry, A Miracle! * K. Hen. O God, see'st thou this, and bear'st so long? * Q. Mar. It made me laugh to see the vil→ lain run. * Glo. Follow the knave; and take this drab away. Wife. Alas, Sir, we did it for pure need. Glo. Let them be whipped through every market town, till they come to Berwick, whence they came. [Exeunt Mayor, Beadle, Wife, &c. Car. Duke Humphrey 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. Hen. What tidings with our cousin Buck ingham? Buck. Such as my heart doth tremble to A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, The ringleader and head of all this rout, Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, 'Tis like, my Lord, you will not keep your hour. 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 grooin. * K. Hen, O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones; *Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby! * Q. Mar. Gloster, see here the tainture of thy nest; *And, look, thyself be faultless, thou wert best. Glo. Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal, How I have lov'd my King, and commonweal: I banish ber, my bed, and company; And give her, as a prey, to law, and shame, |