Enter an Inhabitant of Saint Albans, crying A Miracle!

Glo. What means this noise?

Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim?

Inhab. A miracle! a miracle!

Suff. Come to the king, and tell him what miracle. Inhab. Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine, Within this half hour, hath received his sight;

A man that ne'er saw in his life before.

K. Hen. Now, God be praised! that to believing souls Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair!

Enter the Mayor of Saint Albans, 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.

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 restored?
Simp. Born blind, an't please your grace.

Wife. Ay, indeed, was he.

Suff. 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 unhallowed 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 called

A hundred times, and oftener, 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.

с

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 ven

ture so.

Simp. Alas, good master, my wife desired some damsons, And made me climb, with danger of my life.

eyes.-Wink

Glo. A subtle knave! but yet it shall not serve.—
Let me see thine
now; now open them.
In my opinion, yet thou see'st not well.

Simp. Yes, master, clear as day; I thank God and saint

Alban.

Glo. Say'st thou me so? What color is this cloak of? Simp. Red, master; red as blood.

Glo. Why, that's well said. What color is my gown of? Simp. Black, forsooth; coal-black, as jet.

K. Hen. Why, then, thou know'st what color jet is of? Suff. 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 colors we do wear.
Sight may distinguish of colors; 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 again?
Simp. O, master, that you could!

Glo. My masters of Saint Albans, 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 in.] 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. Suff. 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 Buckingham? Buck. Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold. A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent,Under the countenance and confederacy, Of lady Eleanor, the protector's wife, The ringleader and head of all this rout,Have practised dangerously against your state, Dealing with witches, and with conjurers; Whom we have apprehended in the fact; Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, Demanding of king Henry's life and death,

And other of your highness' privy council,
As more at large your grace shall understand.
Car. And so, my lord protector, by this means
Your lady is forthcoming yet at London.
This news, I think, hath turned your weapon's edge.
'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour.
[Aside to GLOSter.
Glo. Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart!
Sorrow, and grief have vanquished all my powers;
And, vanquished as I am, I yield to thee,

Or to the meanest groom.

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 were best.
Glo. Madam, for myself, to Heaven I do appeal,
How I have loved my king, and common-weal:
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
Honor and virtue, and conversed 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 dishonored 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 prevails.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE II. London. The Duke of York's Garden. 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.

War. Sweet York, begin; and if thy claim be good,
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 Edmond 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, reigned as king;
Till Henry Bolingbroke, duke of Lancaster,
The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt,
Crowned by the name of Henry the Fourth,
Seized on the realm; deposed the rightful king;
Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came,
And him to Pomfret; where, as you all know,
Harmless Richard was murdered 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 reigned.

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. Sal. This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke, As I have read, laid claim unto the crown; And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king, Who kept him in captivity, till he died.

But, to the rest.

York.

His eldest sister, Anne,
My mother, being heir unto the crown,

Married Richard, earl of Cambridge; who was son
To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son.
By her I claim the kingdom: she was heir

To Roger, earl of March; who was the son
Of Edmund Mortimer; who married Philippe,
Sole daughter unto Lionel, duke of Clarence:
So, if the issue of the elder son

Succeed before the younger, I am king.

War. What plain proceedings are more plain than this? Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt,