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:-
:-

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 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 might'st 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, see'st 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.

K. Hen. What tidings with our cousin Buckingham?

3

Buck. Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold. A sort of naughty persons, vilely bent, Under the countenance and confederacy Of lady Eleanor, the protector's wife, The ringleader and head of all this rout, Have practis'd 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 turn'd 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 vanquish'd all my powers: And, vanquish'd as I am, I yield to thee,

Or to the meanest groom.

K. Hen. Alas, what mischiefs work the wicked

ones;

Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby !

3 A company.

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.

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.

+ Weigh.

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, 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.