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good witness of this; therefore I beseech your Majesty, do not cast away an honest man for a villain’s accusation.

KING HENRY. Uncle, what shall we say to this in law?

GLOUCESTER. This doom, my lord, if I may judge: Let Somerset be Regent o’er the French, Because in York this breeds suspicion; And let these have a day appointed them For single combat in convenient place, For he hath witness of his servant’s malice.

This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey’s doom.

SOMERSET. I humbly thank your royal Majesty.

HORNER. And I accept the combat willingly.

PETER. Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God’s sake, pity my case!

The spite of man prevaileth against me. O Lord, have mercy upon me, I shall never be able to fight a blow! O Lord, my heart!

GLOUCESTER. Sirrah, or you must fight or else be hang’d.

KING HENRY. Away with them to prison; and the day of combat shall be the last of the next month.

Come, Somerset, we’ll see thee sent away. Flourish. Exeunt

SCENE IV.

London. The DUKE OF GLOUCESTER’S garden

 

Enter MARGERY JOURDAIN, the witch; the two priests, HUME and SOUTHWELL; and BOLINGBROKE

 

HUME. Come, my masters; the Duchess, I tell you, expects performance of your promises.

BOLINGBROKE. Master Hume, we are therefore provided; will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms?

HUME. Ay, what else? Fear you not her courage.

BOLINGBROKE. I have heard her reported to be a woman of an invincible spirit; but it shall be convenient, Master Hume, that you be by her aloft while we be busy below; and so I pray you go, in God’s name, and leave us. [Exit HUME] Mother Jourdain, be you prostrate and grovel on the earth; John Southwell, read you; and let us to our work.

 

Enter DUCHESS aloft, followed by HUME

 

DUCHESS. Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this gear, the sooner the better.

BOLINGBROKE. Patience, good lady; wizards know their times: Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night, The time of night when Troy was set on fire; The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl, And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves-That time best fits the work we have in hand.

Madam, sit you, and fear not: whom we raise We will make fast within a hallow’d verge.

 

[Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make the circle; BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads: ‘Conjuro te,’ &c.

It thunders and lightens terribly; then the SPIRIT riseth]

 

SPIRIT. Adsum.

MARGERY JOURDAIN. Asmath,

By the eternal God, whose name and power Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask; For till thou speak thou shalt not pass from hence.

SPIRIT. Ask what thou wilt; that I had said and done.

BOLINGBROKE. [Reads] ‘First of the king: what shall of him become?’

SPIRIT. The Duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; But him outlive, and die a violent death.

[As the SPIRIT speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answer]

BOLINGBROKE. ‘What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?’

SPIRIT. By water shall he die and take his end.

BOLINGBROKE. ‘What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?’

SPIRIT. Let him shun castles:

Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains Than where castles mounted stand.

Have done, for more I hardly can endure.

BOLINGBROKE. Descend to darkness and the burning lake; False fiend, avoid! Thunder and lightning. Exit SPIRIT

 

Enter the DUKE OF YORK and the DUKE OF

BUCKINGHAM with guard, and break in YORK. Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash.

Beldam, I think we watch’d you at an inch.

What, madam, are you there? The King and commonweal Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains; My Lord Protector will, I doubt it not, See you well guerdon’d for these good deserts.

DUCHESS. Not half so bad as thine to England’s king, Injurious Duke, that threatest where’s no cause.

BUCKINGHAM. True, madam, none at all. What can you this?

Away with them! let them be clapp’d up close, And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us.

Stafford, take her to thee.

We’ll see your trinkets here all forthcoming.

All, away!

Exeunt, above, DUCHESS and HUME, guarded; below, WITCH, SOUTHWELL and BOLINGBROKE, guarded 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? [Reads]

‘The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; But him outlive, and die a violent death.’

Why, this is just

‘Aio te, Aeacida, 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?’

‘Let him shun castles;

Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains Than where castles mounted stand.’

Come, come, my lords;

These oracles are hardly attain’d,

And hardly understood.

The King is now in progress towards Saint Albans, With him the husband of this lovely lady; Thither go these news as fast as horse can carry themA sorry breakfast for my Lord Protector.

BUCKINGHAM. 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?

 

Enter a servingman Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick To sup with me tomorrow night. Away! Exeunt

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ACT II. SCENE I.

Saint Albans

 

Enter the KING, QUEEN, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK, with Falconers halloing

 

QUEEN. 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.

KING HENRY. 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.

SUFFOLK. No marvel, an it like your Majesty, My Lord Protector’s hawks do tow’r so well; They know their master loves to be aloft, And bears his thoughts above his falcon’s pitch.

GLOUCESTER. My lord, ‘tis but a base ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.

CARDINAL. I thought as much; he would be above the clouds.

GLOUCESTER. Ay, my lord Cardinal, how think you by that?

Were it not good your Grace could fly to heaven?

KING HENRY. The treasury of everlasting joy!

CARDINAL. 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.

GLOUCESTER. What, Cardinal, is your priesthood grown peremptory?

Tantaene animis coelestibus irae?

Churchmen so hot? Good uncle, hide such malice; With such holiness can you do it?

SUFFOLK. No malice, sir; no more than well becomes So good a quarrel and so bad a peer.

GLOUCESTER. As who, my lord?

SUFFOLK. Why, as you, my lord,

An’t like your lordly Lord’s Protectorship.

GLOUCESTER. Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence.

QUEEN. And thy ambition, Gloucester.

KING HENRY. I prithee, peace,

Good Queen, and whet not on these furious peers; For blessed are the peacemakers on earth.

CARDINAL. Let me be blessed for the peace I make Against this proud Protector with my sword!

GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CARDINAL] Faith, holy uncle, would ‘twere come to that!

CARDINAL. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Marry, when thou dar’st.

GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CARDINAL] Make up no factious numbers for the matter;

In thine own person answer thy abuse.

CARDINAL. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Ay, where thou dar’st not peep; an if thou dar’st,

This evening on the east side of the grove.

KING HENRY. How now, my lords!

CARDINAL. Believe me, cousin Gloucester, Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly, We had had more sport. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Come with thy two-hand sword.

GLOUCESTER. True, uncle.

CARDINAL. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Are ye advis’d? The east side of the grove?

GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CARDINAL] Cardinal, I am with you.

KING HENRY. Why, how now, uncle Gloucester!

GLOUCESTER. Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord.

[Aside to CARDINAL] Now, by God’s Mother, priest, I’ll shave your crown for this,

Or all my fence shall fail.

CARDINAL. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Medice, teipsum; Protector, see to’t well; protect yourself.

KING HENRY. The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords.

How irksome is this music to my heart!

When such strings jar, what hope of harmony?

I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife.

 

Enter a TOWNSMAN of Saint Albans, crying ‘A miracle!’

 

GLOUCESTER. What means this noise?

Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim?

TOWNSMAN. A miracle! A miracle!

SUFFOLK. Come to the King, and tell him what miracle.

TOWNSMAN. Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Albans shrine Within this half hour hath receiv’d his sight; A man that ne’er saw in his life before.

KING HENRY. 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, bearing Simpcox between two in a chair; his WIFE and a multitude following CARDINAL. Here comes the townsmen on procession To present your Highness with the man.

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

GLOUCESTER. Stand by, my masters; bring him near the King; His Highness’ pleasure is to talk with him.

KING HENRY. 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?

SIMPCOX. Born blind, an’t please your Grace.

WIFE. Ay indeed was he.

SUFFOLK. What woman is this?

WIFE. His wife, an’t like your worship.

GLOUCESTER. Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst have better told.

KING HENRY. Where wert thou born?

SIMPCOX. At Berwick in the north, an’t like your Grace.

KING HENRY. 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.

QUEEN. Tell me, good fellow, cam’st thou here by chance, Or of devotion, to this holy shrine?

SIMPCOX. 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.

CARDINAL. What, art thou lame?

SIMPCOX. Ay, God Almighty help me!

SUFFOLK. How cam’st thou so?

SIMPCOX. A fall off of a tree.

WIFE. A plum tree, master.

GLOUCESTER. How long hast thou been blind?

SIMPCOX. O, born so, master!

GLOUCESTER. What, and wouldst climb a tree?

SIMPCOX. But that in all my life, when I was a youth.

WIFE. Too true; and bought his climbing very dear.

GLOUCESTER. Mass, thou lov’dst plums well, that wouldst venture so.

SIMPCOX. Alas, good master, my wife desir’d some damsons And made me climb, With danger of my life.

GLOUCESTER. A subtle knave! But yet it shall not serve: Let me see thine eyes; wink now; now open them; In my opinion yet thou seest not well.

SIMPCOX. Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and Saint Alban.

GLOUCESTER. Say’st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of?

SIMPCOX. Red, master; red as blood.

GLOUCESTER. Why, that’s well said. What colour is my gown of?

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