ACT II. SCENE 1.

SAINT ALBANS.

Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, Glo'ster, Cardinal, and Suffolk, with Falconers høllaing.

'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 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 cælestibus iræ?

Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice;

With such holiness can you do it?

'Suf. No malice, sir; no more than well be

comes

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 inso

lence.

Q. Mar. And thy ambition, Glo'ster.

K. Hen. I pr'ythee, peace, Good queen; and whet not on these furious peers, For blessed are the peacemakers on earth.

Car. Let me be blessed for the peace I make, Against this proud protector, with my sword! Glo. 'Faith, holy uncle, 'would 'twere come to [Aside to the Cardinal.

that!

'Car. Marry, when thou dar'st.

[Aside. 'Glo. Make up no factious numbers for the mat

ter,

'In thine own person answer thy abuse. [Aside. Car. Ay, where thou dar'st not peep: an if -thou dar'st,

'This evening, on the east side of the grove. [Aside.

'K. Hen. How now, my lords?

'Car.

Believe me, cousin Glo'ster,

'Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly,

'We had had more sport.-Come with thy twohand sword.

Glo. True, uncle.

[Aside to Glo.

Car. Are you advis'd?-the east side of the

grove?

Glo. Cardinal, I am with you.

K. Hen.

[Aside.

Why, how now, uncle Glo'ster? 'Glo. Talking of hawking; nothing else, my

lord.

Now, by God's mother, priest, I'll shave your crown

for this,

* Or all my fence shall fail.

*Car. Medice teipsum;

[Aside.

'Protector, see to't well, protect yourself. } [Aside.

K. Hen. The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords.

* How irksome is this musick to my heart!
* When such strings jar, what hope of harmony?
pray, my lords, let me compound this strife.

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!

Suf. Come to the king, and tell him what mi

racle.

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 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 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 circum

stance,

* 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. Had'st thou been his mother, thou could'st 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?

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

serve.

Let me see thine eyes:-wink now;- now open them: