The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: m5v - Histories, p. 126

Left Column


The second Part of Henry the Sixt. Card. I thought as much, hee would be aboue the Cloud. Glost. I my Lord Cardinall, how thinke you by that? Were it not good your Grace could flye to Heauen? King. The Treasurie of euerlasting Ioy. Card.
[685]
Thy Heauen is on Earth, thine Eyes & Thoughts Beat on a Crowne, the Treasure of thy Heart, Pernitious Protector, dangerous Peere, That Smooth'st it so with King and Common‑weale.
Glost. What, Cardinall?
[690]
Is your Priest‑hood growne peremptorie ? Tantæne animis Cœlestibus iræ, Church‑men so hot? Good Vnckle hide such mallice: With such Holynesse can you doe it?
Suff. No mallice Sir, no more then well becomes
[695]
So good a Quarrell, and so bad a Peere.
Glost. As who, my Lord? Suff. Why, as you, my Lord, An't like your Lordly Lords Protectorship. Glost. Why Suffolke, England knowes thine insolence. Queene.
[700]
And thy Ambition, Gloster.
King. I prythee peace, good Queene, And whet not on these furious Peeres, For blessed are the Peace‑makers on Earth. Card. Let me be blessed for the Peace I make
[705]
Against this prowd Protector with my Sword.
Glost. Faith holy Vnckle, would't were come to that. Card. Marry, when thou dar'st. Glost. Make vp no factious numbers for the matter, In thine owne person answere thy abuse. Card.
[710]
I, where thou dar'st not peepe: And if thou dar'st, this Euening, On the East side of the Groue.
King. How now, my Lords? Card. Beleeue me, Cousin Gloster,
[715]
Had not your man put vp the Fowle so suddenly, We had had more sport. Come with thy two‑hand Sword.
Glost. True Vnckle, are ye aduis'd? The East side of the Groue:
[720]
Cardinall, I am with you.
King. Why how now, Vnckle Gloster? Glost. Talking of Hawking; nothing else, my Lord. Now by Gods Mother, Priest, Ile shaue your Crowne for this,
[725]
Or all my Fence shall fayle.
Card.

Medice teipsum, Protector see to't well, protect

your selfe.

King. The Windes grow high, So doe your Stomacks, Lords:
[730]
How irkesome is this Musick to my heart? When such Strings iarre, what hope of Harmony? I pray my Lords let me compound this strife.
Enter one crying a Miracle. Glost. What meanes this noyse? Fellow, what Miracle do'st thou proclayme? One.
[735]
A Miracle, a Miracle.
Suffolke. Come to the King, and tell him what Mi­ racle. One. Forsooth, a blinde man at Saint Albones Shrine, Within this halfe houre hath receiu'd his sight, A man that ne're saw in his life before. King.
[740]
Now God be prays'd, that to beleeuing Soules Giues Light in Darknesse, Comfort in Despaire.

Image


[full image]

Right Column


Enter the Maior of Saint Albones, and his Brethren, bearing the man betweene two in a Chayre. Card. Here comes the Townes‑men, on Procession, To present your Highnesse with the man. King. Great is his comfort in this Earthly Vale,
[745]
Although by his sight his sinne be multiplyed.
Glost. Stand by, my Masters, bring him neere the King, His Highnesse pleasure is to talke with him. King. Good‑fellow, tell vs here the circumstance, That we for thee may glorifie the Lord.
[750]
What, hast thou beene long blinde, and now restor'd?
Simpc. Borne blinde, and't please your Grace. Wife. I indeede was he. Suff. What Woman is this? Wife. His Wife, and't like your Worship. Glost.
[755]

Hadst thou been his Mother, thou could'st haue

better told.

King. Where wert thou borne? Simpc. At Barwick in the North, and't like your Grace. King. Poore Soule,
[760]
Gods goodnesse hath beene great to thee: Let neuer Day nor Night vnhallowed passe, But still remember what the Lord hath done.
Queene. Tell me, good‑fellow, Cam'st thou here by Chance, or of Deuotion,
[765]
To this holy Shrine?
Simpc. God knowes of pure Deuotion, Being call'd a hundred times, and oftner, In my sleep, by good Saint Albon: Who said; Symon, come; come offer at my Shrine,
[770]
And I will helpe thee.
Wife. Most true, forsooth: And many time and oft my selfe haue heard a Voyce, To call him so. Card. What, art thou lame? Simpc.
[775]
I, God Almightie helpe me.
Suff. How cam'st thou so? Simpc. A fall off of a Tree. Wife. A Plum‑tree, Master. Glost. How long hast thou beene blinde? Simpc.
[780]
O borne so, Master.
Glost. What, and would'st climbe a Tree? Simpc. But that in all my life, when I was a youth. Wife. Too true, and bought his climbing very deare. Glost.

'Masse, thou lou'dst Plummes well, that would'st

[785]

venture so.

Simpc.

Alas, good Master, my Wife desired some

Damsons, and made me climbe, with danger of my

Life.

Glost. A subtill Knaue, but yet it shall not serue:
[790]
Let me see thine Eyes; winck now, now open them, In my opinion, yet thou seest not well.
Simpc.

Yes Master, cleare as day, I thanke God and

Saint Albones.

Glost.

Say'st thou me so: what Colour is this

[795]

Cloake of?

Simpc.

Red Master, Red as Blood.

Glost.

Why that's well said: What Colour is my

Gowne of?

Simpc.

Black forsooth, Coale‑Black, as Iet.

King.
[800]
Why then, thou know'st what Colour Iet is of?
Suff. And yet I thinke, Iet did he neuer see. Glost. But

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[Act 2, Scene 1] Enter the King, Queene, Protector, Cardinall, and Suffolke, with Faulkners hallowing. Queene. Beleeue me Lords, for flying at the Brooke, I saw not better sport these seuen yeeres day: Yet by your leaue, the Winde was very high,
[670]
And ten to one, old Ioane had not gone out.
King. But what a point, my Lord, your Faulcon made, And what a pytch she flew aboue the rest: To see how God in all his Creatures workes, Yea Man and Birds are fayne of climbing high. Suff.
[675]
No maruell, and it like your Maiestie, My Lord Protectors Hawkes doe towre so well, They know their Master loues to be aloft, And beares his thoughts aboue his Faulcons Pitch.
Glost. My Lord, 'tis but a base ignoble minde,
[680]
That mounts no higher then a Bird can sore.
Card. I thought as much, hee would be aboue the Cloud. Glost. I my Lord Cardinall, how thinke you by that? Were it not good your Grace could flye to Heauen? King. The Treasurie of euerlasting Ioy. Card.
[685]
Thy Heauen is on Earth, thine Eyes & Thoughts Beat on a Crowne, the Treasure of thy Heart, Pernitious Protector, dangerous Peere, That Smooth'st it so with King and Common‑weale.
Glost. What, Cardinall?
[690]
Is your Priest‑hood growne peremptorie ? Tantæne animis Cœlestibus iræ, Church‑men so hot? Good Vnckle hide such mallice: With such Holynesse can you doe it?
Suff. No mallice Sir, no more then well becomes
[695]
So good a Quarrell, and so bad a Peere.
Glost. As who, my Lord? Suff. Why, as you, my Lord, An't like your Lordly Lords Protectorship. Glost. Why Suffolke, England knowes thine insolence. Queene.
[700]
And thy Ambition, Gloster.
King. I prythee peace, good Queene, And whet not on these furious Peeres, For blessed are the Peace‑makers on Earth. Card. Let me be blessed for the Peace I make
[705]
Against this prowd Protector with my Sword.
Glost. Faith holy Vnckle, would't were come to that. Card. Marry, when thou dar'st. Glost. Make vp no factious numbers for the matter, In thine owne person answere thy abuse. Card.
[710]
I, where thou dar'st not peepe: And if thou dar'st, this Euening, On the East side of the Groue.
King. How now, my Lords? Card. Beleeue me, Cousin Gloster,
[715]
Had not your man put vp the Fowle so suddenly, We had had more sport. Come with thy two‑hand Sword.
Glost. True Vnckle, are ye aduis'd? The East side of the Groue:
[720]
Cardinall, I am with you.
King. Why how now, Vnckle Gloster? Glost. Talking of Hawking; nothing else, my Lord. Now by Gods Mother, Priest, Ile shaue your Crowne for this,
[725]
Or all my Fence shall fayle.
Card.

Medice teipsum, Protector see to't well, protect

your selfe.

King. The Windes grow high, So doe your Stomacks, Lords:
[730]
How irkesome is this Musick to my heart? When such Strings iarre, what hope of Harmony? I pray my Lords let me compound this strife.
Enter one crying a Miracle. Glost. What meanes this noyse? Fellow, what Miracle do'st thou proclayme? One.
[735]
A Miracle, a Miracle.
Suffolke. Come to the King, and tell him what Mi­ racle. One. Forsooth, a blinde man at Saint Albones Shrine, Within this halfe houre hath receiu'd his sight, A man that ne're saw in his life before. King.
[740]
Now God be prays'd, that to beleeuing Soules Giues Light in Darknesse, Comfort in Despaire.
Enter the Maior of Saint Albones, and his Brethren, bearing the man betweene two in a Chayre. Card. Here comes the Townes‑men, on Procession, To present your Highnesse with the man. King. Great is his comfort in this Earthly Vale,
[745]
Although by his sight his sinne be multiplyed.
Glost. Stand by, my Masters, bring him neere the King, His Highnesse pleasure is to talke with him. King. Good‑fellow, tell vs here the circumstance, That we for thee may glorifie the Lord.
[750]
What, hast thou beene long blinde, and now restor'd?
Simpc. Borne blinde, and't please your Grace. Wife. I indeede was he. Suff. What Woman is this? Wife. His Wife, and't like your Worship. Glost.
[755]

Hadst thou been his Mother, thou could'st haue

better told.

King. Where wert thou borne? Simpc. At Barwick in the North, and't like your Grace. King. Poore Soule,
[760]
Gods goodnesse hath beene great to thee: Let neuer Day nor Night vnhallowed passe, But still remember what the Lord hath done.
Queene. Tell me, good‑fellow, Cam'st thou here by Chance, or of Deuotion,
[765]
To this holy Shrine?
Simpc. God knowes of pure Deuotion, Being call'd a hundred times, and oftner, In my sleep, by good Saint Albon: Who said; Symon, come; come offer at my Shrine,
[770]
And I will helpe thee.
Wife. Most true, forsooth: And many time and oft my selfe haue heard a Voyce, To call him so. Card. What, art thou lame? Simpc.
[775]
I, God Almightie helpe me.
Suff. How cam'st thou so? Simpc. A fall off of a Tree. Wife. A Plum‑tree, Master. Glost. How long hast thou beene blinde? Simpc.
[780]
O borne so, Master.
Glost. What, and would'st climbe a Tree? Simpc. But that in all my life, when I was a youth. Wife. Too true, and bought his climbing very deare. Glost.

'Masse, thou lou'dst Plummes well, that would'st

[785]

venture so.

Simpc.

Alas, good Master, my Wife desired some

Damsons, and made me climbe, with danger of my

Life.

Glost. A subtill Knaue, but yet it shall not serue:
[790]
Let me see thine Eyes; winck now, now open them, In my opinion, yet thou seest not well.
Simpc.

Yes Master, cleare as day, I thanke God and

Saint Albones.

Glost.

Say'st thou me so: what Colour is this

[795]

Cloake of?

Simpc.

Red Master, Red as Blood.

Glost.

Why that's well said: What Colour is my

Gowne of?

Simpc.

Black forsooth, Coale‑Black, as Iet.

King.
[800]
Why then, thou know'st what Colour Iet is of?
Suff. And yet I thinke, Iet did he neuer see. Glost. But Cloakes and Gownes, before this day, a many. Wife. Neuer before this day, in all his life. Glost. Tell me Sirrha, what's my Name? Simpc.
[805]
Alas Master, I know not.
Glost. What's his Name? Simpc. I know not. Glost. Nor his? Simpc. No indeede, Master. Glost.
[810]
What's thine owne Name?
Simpc. Saunder Simpcoxe, and if it please you, Master. Glost. Then Saunder, sit there, The lying'st Knaue in Christendome. If thou hadst beene borne blinde,
[815]
Thou might'st as well haue knowne all our Names, As thus to name the seuerall Colours we doe weare. Sight may distinguish of Colours: But suddenly to nominate them all, It is impossible.
[820]
My Lords, Saint Albone here hath done a Miracle: And would ye not thinke it, Cunning to be great, That could restore this Cripple to his Legges againe.
Simpc. O Master, that you could? Glost. My Masters of Saint Albones,
[825]
Haue you not Beadles in your Towne, And Things call'd Whippes?
Maior. Yes, my Lord, if it please your Grace. Glost. Then send for one presently. Maior. Sirrha, goe fetch the Beadle hither straight. Exit. Glost.
[830]
Now fetch me a stoole hither by and by.

Now Sirrha, if you meane to saue your selfe from Whip­

ping, leape me ouer this stoole, and runne away.

Simpc. Alas Master, I am not able to stand alone: You goe about to torture me in vaine. Enter a Beadle with Whippes. Glost.
[835]

Well Sir, we must haue you finde your Legges.

Sirrha Beadle, whippe him till he leape ouer that same

Stoole.

Beadle. I will, my Lord. Come on Sirrha, off with your Doublet, quickly. Simpc.
[840]

Alas Master, what shall I doe? I am not able to

stand.

After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leapes ouer the Stoole, and runnes away: and they follow, and cry, A Miracle. King. O God, seest thou this, and bearest so long? Queene. It made me laugh, to see the Villaine runne. Glost. Follow the Knaue, and take this Drab away. Wife.
[845]
Alas Sir, we did it for pure need.
Glost. Let thē them be whipt through euery Market Towne, Till they come to Barwick, from whence they came. Exit. Card. Duke Humfrey ha's done a Miracle to day. Suff. True: made the Lame to leape and flye away. Glost.
[850]
But you haue done more Miracles then I: You made in a day, my Lord, whole Townes to flye.
Enter Buckingham. King. What Tidings with our Cousin Buckingham? Buck. Such as my heart doth tremble to vnfold: A sort of naughtie persons, lewdly bent,
[855]
Vnder the Countenance and Confederacie Of Lady Elianor, the Protectors Wife, The Ring‑leader and Head of all this Rout, Haue practis'd dangerously against your state, Dealing with Witches and with Coniurers,
[860]
Whom we haue apprehended in the Fact, Raysing vp wicked Spirits from vnder ground, Demanding of King Henries Life and Death, And other of your Highnesse Priuie Councell, As more at large your Grace shall vnderstand.
Card.
[865]
And so my Lord Protector, by this meanes Your Lady is forth‑comming, yet at London. This Newes I thinke hath turn'd your Weapons edge; 'Tis like, my Lord, you will not keepe your houre.
Glost. Ambitious Church‑man, leaue to affict my heart:
[870]
Sorrow and griefe haue vanquisht all my powers; And vanquisht as I am, I yeeld to thee, Or to the meanest Groome.
King. O God, what mischiefes work the wicked ones? Heaping confusion on their owne heads thereby. Queene.
[875]
Gloster, see here the Taincture of thy Nest, And looke thy selfe be faultlesse, thou wert best.
Glost. Madame, for my selfe, to Heauen I doe appeale, How I haue lou'd my King, and Common‑weale: And for my Wife, I know not how it stands,
[880]
Sorry I am to heare what I haue heard. Noble shee is: but if shee haue forgot Honor and Vertue, and conuers't with such, As like to Pytch, defile Nobilitie; I banish her my Bed, and Companie,
[885]
And giue her as a Prey to Law and Shame, That hath dis‑honored Glosters honest Name.
King. Well, for this Night we will repose vs here: To morrow toward London, back againe, To looke into this Businesse thorowly,
[890]
And call these foule Offendors to their Answeres; And poyse the Cause in Iustice equall Scales, Whose Beame stands sure, whose rightful cause preuailes.
Flourish. Exeunt.
 

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   <head type="supplied">[Act 2, Scene 1]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter the King, Queene, Protector, Cardinall, and
      <lb/>Suffolke, with Faulkners hallowing.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Queene.</speaker>
      <l n="667">Beleeue me Lords, for flying at the Brooke,</l>
      <l n="668">I saw not better sport these seuen yeeres day:</l>
      <l n="669">Yet by your leaue, the Winde was very high,</l>
      <l n="670">And ten to one, old<hi rend="italic">Ioane</hi>had not gone out.</l>
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      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="671">But what a point, my Lord, your Faulcon made,</l>
      <l n="672">And what a pytch she flew aboue the rest:</l>
      <l n="673">To see how God in all his Creatures workes,</l>
      <l n="674">Yea Man and Birds are fayne of climbing high.</l>
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   <sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
      <speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
      <l n="675">No maruell, and it like your Maiestie,</l>
      <l n="676">My Lord Protectors Hawkes doe towre so well,</l>
      <l n="677">They know their Master loues to be aloft,</l>
      <l n="678">And beares his thoughts aboue his Faulcons Pitch.</l>
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   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="679">My Lord, 'tis but a base ignoble minde,</l>
      <l n="680">That mounts no higher then a Bird can sore.</l>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="681">I thought as much, hee would be aboue the
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      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="682">I my Lord Cardinall, how thinke you by that?</l>
      <l n="683">Were it not good your Grace could flye to Heauen?</l>
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   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="684">The Treasurie of euerlasting Ioy.</l>
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   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="685">Thy Heauen is on Earth, thine Eyes &amp; Thoughts</l>
      <l n="686">Beat on a Crowne, the Treasure of thy Heart,</l>
      <l n="687">Pernitious Protector, dangerous Peere,</l>
      <l n="688">That Smooth'st it so with King and Common‑weale.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="689">What, Cardinall?</l>
      <l n="690">Is your Priest‑hood growne peremptorie<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
      <l n="691">
         <hi rend="italic">Tantæne animis Cœlestibus iræ</hi>, Church‑men so hot?</l>
      <l n="692">Good Vnckle hide such mallice:</l>
      <l n="693">With such Holynesse can you doe it?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
      <speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
      <l n="694">No mallice Sir, no more then well becomes</l>
      <l n="695">So good a Quarrell, and so bad a Peere.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="696">As who, my Lord?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
      <speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
      <l n="697">Why, as you, my Lord,</l>
      <l n="698">An't like your Lordly Lords Protectorship.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="699">Why<hi rend="italic">Suffolke</hi>, England knowes thine insolence.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Queene.</speaker>
      <l n="700">And thy Ambition,<hi rend="italic">Gloster</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="701">I prythee peace, good Queene,</l>
      <l n="702">And whet not on these furious Peeres,</l>
      <l n="703">For blessed are the Peace‑makers on Earth.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="704">Let me be blessed for the Peace I make</l>
      <l n="705">Against this prowd Protector with my Sword.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="706">Faith holy Vnckle, would't were come to that.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="707">Marry, when thou dar'st.</l>
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   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="708">Make vp no factious numbers for the matter,</l>
      <l n="709">In thine owne person answere thy abuse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="710">I, where thou dar'st not peepe:</l>
      <l n="711">And if thou dar'st, this Euening,</l>
      <l n="712">On the East side of the Groue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="713">How now, my Lords?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="714">Beleeue me, Cousin<hi rend="italic">Gloster</hi>,</l>
      <l n="715">Had not your man put vp the Fowle so suddenly,</l>
      <l n="716">We had had more sport.</l>
      <l n="717">Come with thy two‑hand Sword.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="718">True Vnckle, are ye aduis'd?</l>
      <l n="719">The East side of the Groue:</l>
      <l n="720">Cardinall, I am with you.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="721">Why how now, Vnckle<hi rend="italic">Gloster</hi>?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="722">Talking of Hawking; nothing else, my Lord.</l>
      <l n="723">Now by Gods Mother, Priest,</l>
      <l n="724">Ile shaue your Crowne for this,</l>
      <l n="725">Or all my Fence shall fayle.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <p n="726">
         <hi rend="italic">Medice teipsum</hi>, Protector see to't well, protect
      <lb n="727"/>your selfe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="728">The Windes grow high,</l>
      <l n="729">So doe your Stomacks, Lords:</l>
      <l n="730">How irkesome is this Musick to my heart?</l>
      <l n="731">When such Strings iarre, what hope of Harmony?</l>
      <l n="732">I pray my Lords let me compound this strife.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter one crying a Miracle.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="733">What meanes this noyse?</l>
      <l n="734">Fellow, what Miracle do'st thou proclayme?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-tow">
      <speaker rend="italic">One.</speaker>
      <l n="735">A Miracle, a Miracle.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
      <speaker rend="italic">Suffolke.</speaker>
      <l n="736">Come to the King, and tell him what Mi­
      <lb/>racle.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-tow">
      <speaker rend="italic">One.</speaker>
      <l n="737">Forsooth, a blinde man at Saint<hi rend="italic">Albones</hi>Shrine,</l>
      <l n="738">Within this halfe houre hath receiu'd his sight,</l>
      <l n="739">A man that ne're saw in his life before.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="740">Now God be prays'd, that to beleeuing Soules</l>
      <l n="741">Giues Light in Darknesse, Comfort in Despaire.</l>
   </sp>
   <cb n="2"/>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter the Maior of Saint Albones, and his Brethren,
      <lb/>bearing the man betweene two in a Chayre.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="742">Here comes the Townes‑men, on Procession,</l>
      <l n="743">To present your Highnesse with the man.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="744">Great is his comfort in this Earthly Vale,</l>
      <l n="745">Although by his sight his sinne be multiplyed.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="746">Stand by, my Masters, bring him neere the King,</l>
      <l n="747">His Highnesse pleasure is to talke with him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="748">Good‑fellow, tell vs here the circumstance,</l>
      <l n="749">That we for thee may glorifie the Lord.</l>
      <l n="750">What, hast thou beene long blinde, and now restor'd?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="751">Borne blinde, and't please your Grace.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-wsi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Wife.</speaker>
      <l n="752">I indeede was he.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
      <speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
      <l n="753">What Woman is this?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-wsi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Wife.</speaker>
      <l n="754">His Wife, and't like your Worship.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <p n="755">Hadst thou been his Mother, thou could'st haue
      <lb n="756"/>better told.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="757">Where wert thou borne?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="758">At Barwick in the North, and't like your
      <lb/>Grace.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="759">Poore Soule,</l>
      <l n="760">Gods goodnesse hath beene great to thee:</l>
      <l n="761">Let neuer Day nor Night vnhallowed passe,</l>
      <l n="762">But still remember what the Lord hath done.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Queene.</speaker>
      <l n="763">Tell me, good‑fellow,</l>
      <l n="764">Cam'st thou here by Chance, or of Deuotion,</l>
      <l n="765">To this holy Shrine?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="766">God knowes of pure Deuotion,</l>
      <l n="767">Being call'd a hundred times, and oftner,</l>
      <l n="768">In my sleep, by good Saint<hi rend="italic">Albon:</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="769">Who said;<hi rend="italic">Symon</hi>, come; come offer at my Shrine,</l>
      <l n="770">And I will helpe thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-wsi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Wife.</speaker>
      <l n="771">Most true, forsooth:</l>
      <l n="772">And many time and oft my selfe haue heard a Voyce,</l>
      <l n="773">To call him so.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="774">What, art thou lame?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="775">I, God Almightie helpe me.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
      <speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
      <l n="776">How cam'st thou so?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="777">A fall off of a Tree.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-wsi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Wife.</speaker>
      <l n="778">A Plum‑tree, Master.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="779">How long hast thou beene blinde?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="780">O borne so, Master.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="781">What, and would'st climbe a Tree?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="782">But that in all my life, when I was a youth.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-wsi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Wife.</speaker>
      <l n="783">Too true, and bought his climbing very deare.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <p n="784">'Masse, thou lou'dst Plummes well, that would'st
      <lb n="785"/>venture so.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <p n="786">Alas, good Master, my Wife desired some
      <lb n="787"/>Damsons, and made me climbe, with danger of my
      <lb n="788"/>Life.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="789">A subtill Knaue, but yet it shall not serue:</l>
      <l n="790">Let me see thine Eyes; winck now, now open them,</l>
      <l n="791">In my opinion, yet thou seest not well.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <p n="792">Yes Master, cleare as day, I thanke God and
      <lb n="793"/>Saint<hi rend="italic">Albones</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <p n="794">Say'st thou me so: what Colour is this
      <lb n="795"/>Cloake of?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <p n="796">Red Master, Red as Blood.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <p n="797">Why that's well said: What Colour is my
      <lb n="798"/>Gowne of?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <p n="799">Black forsooth, Coale‑Black, as Iet.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="800">Why then, thou know'st what Colour Iet is
      <lb/>of?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
      <speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
      <l n="801">And yet I thinke, Iet did he neuer see.</l>
   </sp>
   <pb facs="FFimg:axc0483-0.jpg" n="127"/>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="802">But Cloakes and Gownes, before this day, a
      <lb/>many.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-wsi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Wife.</speaker>
      <l n="803">Neuer before this day, in all his life.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="804">Tell me Sirrha, what's my Name?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="805">Alas Master, I know not.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="806">What's his Name?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="807">I know not.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="808">Nor his?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="809">No indeede, Master.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="810">What's thine owne Name?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="811">
         <hi rend="italic">Saunder Simpcoxe</hi>, and if it please you, Master.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="812">Then<hi rend="italic">Saunder</hi>, sit there,</l>
      <l n="813">The lying'st Knaue in Christendome.</l>
      <l n="814">If thou hadst beene borne blinde,</l>
      <l n="815">Thou might'st as well haue knowne all our Names,</l>
      <l n="816">As thus to name the seuerall Colours we doe weare.</l>
      <l n="817">Sight may distinguish of Colours:</l>
      <l n="818">But suddenly to nominate them all,</l>
      <l n="819">It is impossible.</l>
      <l n="820">My Lords, Saint<hi rend="italic">Albone</hi>here hath done a Miracle:</l>
      <l n="821">And would ye not thinke it, Cunning to be great,</l>
      <l n="822">That could restore this Cripple to his Legges againe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="823">O Master, that you could?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="824">My Masters of Saint<hi rend="italic">Albones</hi>,</l>
      <l n="825">Haue you not Beadles in your Towne,</l>
      <l n="826">And Things call'd Whippes?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-may">
      <speaker rend="italic">Maior.</speaker>
      <l n="827">Yes, my Lord, if it please your Grace.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="828">Then send for one presently.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-may">
      <speaker rend="italic">Maior.</speaker>
      <l n="829">Sirrha, goe fetch the Beadle hither straight.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="830">Now fetch me a stoole hither by and by.</l>
      <p n="831">Now Sirrha, if you meane to saue your selfe from Whip­
      <lb n="832"/>ping, leape me ouer this stoole, and runne away.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <l n="833">Alas Master, I am not able to stand alone:</l>
      <l n="834">You goe about to torture me in vaine.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter a Beadle with Whippes.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <p n="835">Well Sir, we must haue you finde your Legges.
      <lb n="836"/>Sirrha Beadle, whippe him till he leape ouer that same
      <lb n="837"/>Stoole.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-bea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Beadle.</speaker>
      <l n="838">I will, my Lord.</l>
      <l n="839">Come on Sirrha, off with your Doublet, quickly.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-sim">
      <speaker rend="italic">Simpc.</speaker>
      <p n="840">Alas Master, what shall I doe? I am not able to
      <lb n="841"/>stand.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="business">After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leapes ouer
      <lb/>the Stoole, and runnes away: and they
      <lb/>follow, and cry, A Miracle.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="842">O God, seest thou this, and bearest so long?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Queene.</speaker>
      <l n="843">It made me laugh, to see the Villaine runne.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="844">Follow the Knaue, and take this Drab away.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-wsi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Wife.</speaker>
      <l n="845">Alas Sir, we did it for pure need.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="846">Let<choice>
            <abbr>thē</abbr>
            <expan>them</expan>
         </choice>be whipt through euery Market Towne,</l>
      <l n="847">Till they come to Barwick, from whence they came.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="848">Duke<hi rend="italic">Humfrey</hi>ha's done a Miracle to day.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
      <speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
      <l n="849">True: made the Lame to leape and flye away.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="850">But you haue done more Miracles then I:</l>
      <l n="851">You made in a day, my Lord, whole Townes to flye.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Buckingham.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="852">What Tidings with our Cousin<hi rend="italic">Buckingham?</hi>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-buc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Buck.</speaker>
      <l n="853">Such as my heart doth tremble to vnfold:</l>
      <l n="854">A sort of naughtie persons, lewdly bent,</l>
      <l n="855">Vnder the Countenance and Confederacie</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="856">Of Lady<hi rend="italic">Elianor</hi>, the Protectors Wife,</l>
      <l n="857">The Ring‑leader and Head of all this Rout,</l>
      <l n="858">Haue practis'd dangerously against your state,</l>
      <l n="859">Dealing with Witches and with Coniurers,</l>
      <l n="860">Whom we haue apprehended in the Fact,</l>
      <l n="861">Raysing vp wicked Spirits from vnder ground,</l>
      <l n="862">Demanding of King<hi rend="italic">Henries</hi>Life and Death,</l>
      <l n="863">And other of your Highnesse Priuie Councell,</l>
      <l n="864">As more at large your Grace shall vnderstand.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-win">
      <speaker rend="italic">Card.</speaker>
      <l n="865">And so my Lord Protector, by this meanes</l>
      <l n="866">Your Lady is forth‑comming, yet at London.</l>
      <l n="867">This Newes I thinke hath turn'd your Weapons edge;</l>
      <l n="868">'Tis like, my Lord, you will not keepe your houre.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="869">Ambitious Church‑man, leaue to affict my heart:</l>
      <l n="870">Sorrow and griefe haue vanquisht all my powers;</l>
      <l n="871">And vanquisht as I am, I yeeld to thee,</l>
      <l n="872">Or to the meanest Groome.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="873">O God, what mischiefes work the wicked ones?</l>
      <l n="874">Heaping confusion on their owne heads thereby.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Queene.</speaker>
      <l n="875">
         <hi rend="italic">Gloster</hi>, see here the Taincture of thy Nest,</l>
      <l n="876">And looke thy selfe be faultlesse, thou wert best.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
      <l n="877">Madame, for my selfe, to Heauen I doe appeale,</l>
      <l n="878">How I haue lou'd my King, and Common‑weale:</l>
      <l n="879">And for my Wife, I know not how it stands,</l>
      <l n="880">Sorry I am to heare what I haue heard.</l>
      <l n="881">Noble shee is: but if shee haue forgot</l>
      <l n="882">Honor and Vertue, and conuers't with such,</l>
      <l n="883">As like to Pytch, defile Nobilitie;</l>
      <l n="884">I banish her my Bed, and Companie,</l>
      <l n="885">And giue her as a Prey to Law and Shame,</l>
      <l n="886">That hath dis‑honored<hi rend="italic">Glosters</hi>honest Name.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="887">Well, for this Night we will repose vs here:</l>
      <l n="888">To morrow toward London, back againe,</l>
      <l n="889">To looke into this Businesse thorowly,</l>
      <l n="890">And call these foule Offendors to their Answeres;</l>
      <l n="891">And poyse the Cause in Iustice equall Scales,</l>
      <l n="892">Whose Beame stands sure, whose rightful cause preuailes.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="mixed">Flourish. Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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