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And kept asunder: -You, madam, shall with us:-
Stafford, take her to thee.

[Exit DUCHESS from above.
We'll see your trinkets here all forth-coming;
All. - Away!

[Exeunt Guards, with SOUTHWELL, BOLING-
BROKE, &c.

York. Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd
her well:

A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon!
Now pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ.
What have we here?

The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose:
But him outlive, and die a violent death.
Why, this is just,

Aio te, acida, Romanos vincere posse.
Well, to the rest :

Tell me, what fate awaits the duke of Suffolk?
By water shall he die, and take his end.
What shall betide the duke of Somerset ?

[Reads.

Let him shun castles;
Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains,
Than where castles mounted stand.
Come, come, my lords;

And hardly understood.
These oracles are hardily attain'd,

4.85

With him, the husband of this lovely lady:
The king is now in progress towards Saint Alban's,
Thither go these news, as fast 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!

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ACT II.

SCENE I.- Saint Alban's.
Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOSTER,
CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK, with Falconers hollaing.
Q. Mar. Believe me, lords, for flying 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. Hen. But what a point, my lord, your falcon
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 2 of climbing high.
Suf. No marvel, an it like your majesty,
My lord protector's hawks do tower so well;
They know their master loves to be aloft,
And bears his thoughts above his falcon'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 cardinal; How think you by that?
Were it not good, your grace could fly to heaven?
K. Hen. 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, cardinal, is your priesthood grown
peremptory?

Tantæne animis cœlestibus iræ?
Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice;
With such holiness can you do it?

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 you, my lord;
An't like your lordly lord-protectorship.
Glo. Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence.
Q. Mar. And thy ambition, Gloster.
K. Hen.
I pr'ythee, peace,
Good queen; and whet not on these furious peers,
For blessed are the peacemakers on earth.

1 The falconer's term for hawking at water-fowl.
2 Fond.

Car. Let me blessed for the peace I make,
Against this proud protector with my sword!
Glo. 'Faith, holy uncle, 'would 'twere come to
that!
[Aside to the Cardinal.
Car. Marry, when thou dar'st.
Glo. Make up no factious numbers for the matter,
[Aside.
In thine own person answer thy abuse.
Car. Ay, where thou dar'st not peep: an if thou
[Aside.
dar'st,

This evening on the east side of the
K. Hen. How now, my lords?
Car.

grove. [Aside.
Believe me, cousin Gloster,
Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly,
We had had more sport Come with thy two-hand
sword.
[dside to GLOSTer.

Glo. True, uncle.

[Aside.

Car. Are you advis'd?-the east side of the grove?
Glo. Cardinal, "I am with you.
K. Hen.
Why, how now, uncle Gloster?
Glo. Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord.—
K. Hen. The winds grow high; so do your sto-
machs, lords.

When such strings jar, what hope of harmony?
How irksome is this musick to my heart!
I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife.
Enter an Inhabitant of Saint Alban's, crying,
A Miracle!

Glo. What means this noise?
Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim?
Inhab. A miracle! a miracle!

Suf. Come to the king, and tell him what miracle.
Inhab. Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's

shrine,

Within this half hour, hath receiv'd his sight;
A man, that ne'er saw in his life before.

K. Hen. Now, God be prais'd! that to believing
souls

Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair!
Enter the Mayor of Saint Alban's, and his Brethren.
and SIMPCOX, borne between two Persons in a
Chair; his Wife, and a great Multitude following
Car. Here come the townsmen on procession,
To present your highness with the man.
Ꮮ Ꭵ Ꮽ

K. Hen. Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, Although by his sight his sin be multiplied.

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 circumstance, That we for thee may glorify the Lord. What, hast thou been long blind, and now restor’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. Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst 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 shrine?

Simp. God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd A hundred times, and oft'ner, in my sleep By good saint Alban; who said, ·Simpcox come; Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee. Wife. Most true, forsooth; and many time and oft Myself have heard a voice to call him so. Car. What, art thou lame? Simp.

Ay, God Almighty help me!

Suf. How cam'st thou so? Simp.

Wife. A plum-tree, master. Glo.

A fall off a tree.

How long hast thou been blind? Simp. O, born so, master.

Glo.

What, and wouldst 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 wouldst

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 serve. Let me see thine eyes: wink now; - now open

them :

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In my opinion yet thou seest not well. Simp. Yes, master, clear as day; I thank God, and saint Alban.

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.
Glo. 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. Alas, master, I know not.
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, an if it please you, master. Glo. Then, Saunder, sit thou there, the lyingest

knave

In Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind,
Thou mightst as well have known our names, as thus
To name the several colours we do wear.
Sight may distinguish of colours; but suddenly
To nominate them all 's impossible.
My lords, saint Alban here hath done a miracle;
And would ye not think that cunning to be great
That could restore this cripple to his legs?

Simp. O, master, that you could!

Glo. My masters of Saint Alban's, have you not beadles in your town, and things called whips? May. Yes, my lord, if it please your grace. Glo. Then send for one presently. May. Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. [Exit an Attendant.

Glo. Now fetch me a stool hither by-and-by. [A stool brought out.] Now, sirrah, if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me 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.

Bead. I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah; off with your doublet quickly.

Simp. Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand.

[After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over the stool, and runs away; and the People follow, and cry, A Miracle! K. Hen. O God, seest thou this, and bear'st so long? Q. Mar. It made me laugh to see 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 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.

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K. Hen. Alas, 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,
And, for my wife, I know not how it stands;
Sorry I am to hear what I have heard:
Noble she is; but if she have forgot
Honour, and virtue, and convers'd with such
As, like to pitch, defile nobility,

I banish her my bed and company ;
And give her, as a prey, to law, and shame,
That hath dishonour'd Gloster's honest name.

K. Hen. Well, for this night, we will repose us here:
To-morrow, toward London, back again,
To look into this business thoroughly,
And call these foul offenders to their answers;
And poise the cause in justice' equal scales,
Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause pre-
vails.
[Flourish. Exeunt.

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Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK.

York. Now, my good lords of Salisbury and
Warwick,

Our simple supper ended, give me leave,
In this close walk, to satisfy myself,

In craving your opinion of my title,

Which is infallible to England's crown.

Sal. My lord, I long to hear it at full.

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Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt,
The fourth son; York claims it from the third.
Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign:
It fails not yet; but flourishes in thee,
And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock.
Then, father Salisbury, kneel we both together;
And, in this private plot 5, be we the first,
That shall salute our rightful sovereign
With honour of his birthright to the crown.
Both. Long live our sovereign Richard, Eng-
land's king!
But I am not your

York. We thank you, lords.

king

Till I be crown'd: and that my sword be stain'd
With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster.
And that's not suddenly to be perform'd;
But with advice, and silent secrecy.

War. Sweet York, begin: and if thy claim be good, Do you, as I do, in these dangerous days,
The Nevils are thy subjects to command.

York. Then thus:

Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons:
The first, Edward the Black Prince, prince of Wales;
The second, William of Hatfield; and the third,
Lionel, duke of Clarence; next to whom,
Was John of Gaunt, the duke of Lancaster:
The fifth, was Edmund Langley, duke of York;
The sixth, was Thomas of Woodstock, duke of
Gloster;

William of Windsor was the seventh, and last.
Edward, the Black Prince, died before his father;
And left behind him Richard, his only son,
Who, after Edward the Third's death, reign'd as king;
Till Henry Bolingbroke, duke of Lancaster,
The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt,
Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth,
Seiz'd on the realm; depos'd the rightful king;
Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came,
And him to Pomfret; where, as all you know,
Harmless Richard was murder'd traitorously.

War. Father, the duke hath told the truth;
Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown.

York. Which now they hold by force, and not by right;

For Richard, the first son's heir being dead,
The issue of the next son should have reign'd.

Sal. But William of Hatfield died without an heir. York. The third son, duke of Clarence, (from whose line

I claim the crown,) had issue - Philippe, a daughter,
Who married Edmund Mortimer, earl of March:
Edmund had issue- Roger, earl of March:
Roger had issue
Edmund, Anne, and Eleanor.

Weigh.

Wink at the duke of Suffolk's insolence,
At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition,
At Buckingham, and all the crew of them,
Till they have snar'd the shepherd of the flock,
That virtuous prince, the good duke Humphrey :
'Tis that they seek; and they, in seeking that,
Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy.
Sal. My lord, break we off; we know your mind
at full.

War. My heart assures me, that the earl of War wick

Shall one day make the duke of York a king.
York. And, Nevil, this I do assure myself, -
Richard shall live to make the earl of Warwick
The greatest man in England, but the king.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Hall of Justice. Trumpets sounded. Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOSTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY; the DUCHESS OF GLOSTER, MARGERY JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, HUME, and BOLINGBROKE, under guard.

K. Hen. Stand forth, dame Eleanor Cobham,
Gloster's wife :

In sight of God, and us your guilt is great;
Receive the sentence of the law for sin.
You four, from hence to prison back again;

[To JOURDAIN, &c.

From thence unto the place of execution :
The witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes,
And you three shall be strangled on the gallows.
You, madam, for you are more nobly born,
Despoiled of your honour in your life,

5 Sequestered spot.

Shall, after three days' open penance done, Live in your country here, in banishment, With sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man.

Hor. Let it come, i'faith, and I'll pledge you all; And a fig for Peter!

1 Pren. Here, Peter, I drink to thee; and be

Duch. Welcome is banishment, welcome were my not afraid. death.

2 Pren. Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy mas

Glo. Eleanor, the law, thou seest, hath judged thee; ter; fight for credit of the prentices. I cannot justify whom the law condemns.

[Exeunt the DUCHESS, and the other Prisoners,
guarded.

Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.
Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age
Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground!
I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go;
Sorrow would 6 solace, and mine age would ease.
K. Hen. Stay, Humphrey duke of Gloster: ere
thou go,

Give up thy staff; Henry will to himself
Protector be; and God shall be my hope,
My stay, my guide, and lantern to my feet;
And go in peace, Humphrey; no less belov'd,
Than when thou wert protector to thy king.

years

Q. Mar. I see no reason why a king of
Should be to be protected like a child.
God and king Henry govern England's helm :
Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm.

Glo. My staff?- here, noble Henry, is my staff; As willingly do I the same resign,

As e'er thy father Henry made it mine;
And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it,
As others would ambitiously receive it.
Farewell, good king: When I am dead and gone,
May honourable peace attend thy throne!

[Exit.

Q. Mar. Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret

queen;

And Humphrey, duke of Gloster, scarce himself,
That bears so shrewd a main; two pulls at once,-
His lady banish'd, and a limb lopp'd off';
This staff of honour raught 7: - There let it stand,
Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand.

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Peter. I thank you all drink, and pray for me, I pray you; for, I think, I have taken my last draught in this world. — Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee my apron; and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer: and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O Lord, bless me; I am never able to deal with my master, he hath learnt so much fence already.

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Suf. Thus droops this lofty pine, and hangs his in right!

sprays;

Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days.
York. Lords, let him go. Please it your majesty,
This is the day appointed for the combat ;
And ready are the appellant and defendant,
The armourer and his man, to enter the lists,
So please your highness to behold the fight.

Q. Mar. Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried.

K. Hen. Then let us see the lists and all things fit; Here let them end it, God defend the right!

York. I never saw a fellow worse bested, Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant, The servant of this armourer, my lords. Enter, on one side, HORNER, and his Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he enters bearing his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; a drum before him at the other side, PETER, with a drum and a similar staff; accompanied by Prentices drinking to him.

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K. Hen. Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; For, by his death, we do perceive his guilt: And heaven in justice, hath reveal'd to us The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, Which he had thought to have murder'd wrongfully.

Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Street.

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Glo. Ten is the hour that was appointed me, To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess: Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook The abject people, gazing on thy face, With envious looks, still laughing at thy shame; That erst did follow thy proud chariot wheels, When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. But, soft! I think, she comes; and I'll prepare My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries. 1. Not easily.

Enter the DUCHESS OF GLOSTER, in a white sheet, with papers pinn'd upon her back, her feet bare, and a taper burning in her hand; SIR JOHN STANLEY, a Sheriff, and Officers.

Serv. So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff.

Glo. No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. Duch. Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? Now thou dost penance too. Look, how they gaze! See, how the giddy multitude do point,

And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!
Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks:
And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame,
And ban 2 thine enemies, both mine and thine.

Glo. Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief.
Duch. Ah, Gloster, teach me to forget myself:
For, whilst I think I am thy married wife,
And thou a prince, protector of this land,
Methinks, I should not thus be led along,
Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back;
And follow'd with a rabble, that rejoice
To see my tears, and here my deep-fet 3 groans.
The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet:
And, when I start, the envious people laugh,
And bid me be advised how I tread.

Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
Trow'st thou, that e'er I'll look upon the world;
Or count them happy, that enjoy the sun?
No; dark shall be my light, and night my day;
To think upon my pomp, shall be my hell.
Sometime I'll say, I am duke Humphrey's wife;
And he a prince, and ruler of the land:
Yet so he rul'd, and such a prince he was,
As he stood by, whilst I, his forlorn duchess,
Was made a wonder, and a pointing-stock,
To every idle rascal follower.

But be thou mild, and blush not at my shame ;
Nor stir at nothing, till the axe of death
Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will.
For Suffolk, he that can do all in all
With her, that hateth thee, and hates us all, -
And York, and impious Beaufort, that false priest,
Have all lim'd bushes to betray thy wings,
And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee:
But fear not thou, until thy foot be snar'd,
Nor ever seek prevention of thy foes.

Glo. Ah, Nell, forbear; thou aimest all awry;
I must offend, before I be attainted:
And had I twenty times so many foes,

And each of them had twenty times their power,
All these could not procure me any scathe 4,
So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.
Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach?
Why, yet thy scandal were not wip'd away,
But I in danger for the breach of law.
Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell:

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For none abides with me: my joy is death;
Death, at whose name I oft have been afear'd,
Because I wish'd this world's eternity. -
Stanley, I pr'ythee, go, and take me hence;
I care not whither, for I beg no favour,
Only convey me where thou art commanded.

Stan. Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; There to be used according to your state.

Duch. That's bad enough, for I am but reproach: And shall I then be used reproachfully?

Stan. Like to a duchess, and duke Humphrey's lady,

According to that state you shall be used.

Duch. Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare; Although thou hast been conduct of my shame! Sher. It is my office, madam, pardon me. Duch. Ay, ay, farewell, thy office is discharg’d. — Come, Stanley, shall we go?

Stan. Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet,

And go we to attire you for our journey.

Duch. My shame will not be shifted with my sheet:

No, it will hang upon my richest robes,
And show itself, attire me how I can.
Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison.

• Conductor.

[Exeunt.

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