Glou. As who, my lord ? Why, as you, my lord, solence. King. I prithee, peace, good queen, Car. Let me be blessed for the peace I make, Against this proud protector, with my sword ! Glou. (A side to CAR.] Faith, holy uncle, would 'twere come to that! CAR. (A side to Glou.] Marry, when thou darest. Glou. [Aside to CAR.] Make up no factious numbers for the matter; In thine own person answer thy abuse. CAR. (A side to Glov.] Ay, where thou darest not peep: an if thou darest, This evening, on the east side of the grove. King. How now, my lords! CAR. Believe me, cousin Gloucester, Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly, We had had more sport. [Aside to Glou.] Come with thy two-hand sword. Glou. True, uncle. CAR. [Aside to Glov.] Are ye advised ? the east side of the grove? Glou. [Aside to Car.] Cardinal, I am with you. KING. Why, how now, uncle Gloucester! Glou. Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord. [Aside to Car.] Now, by God's mother, priest, I'll shave your crown for this, Or all my fence shall fail, CAR. [Aside to Glov.] Medice, teipsumProtector, see to't well, protect yourself. KING. 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 Alban's, crying A miracle! TOWNS. A miracle! a miracle ! shrine, King. Now, God be praised, that to believing souls Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair ! Enter the Mayor of Saint Alban's and his brethren, bearing SIMPcox, between two in a chair, Simpcox's Wife following: Car. Here comes the townsmen on procession, To present your highness with the man. KING. Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, Although by his sight his sin be multiplied. Glou. Stand by, my masters: bring him near the king; с His highness' pleasure is to talk with him. King. Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance, Simp. Born blind, an't please your grace. have better told. King. Where wert thou born ? Simp. At Berwick in the north, an 't like your grace. KING. 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. Queen. Tell me, good fellow, camest thou here by chance, Or of devotion, to this holy shrine ? SIMP. God knows, of pure devotion; being callid 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. Car. What, art thou lame? Ay, God Almighty help me! A fall off of a tree. WIFE. A plum-tree, master. How long hast thou been blind? What, and wouldst climb a tree? wouldst venture so. SIMP. Alas, good master, my wife desired some damsons, And made me climb, with danger of my life. Glou. 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. Glou. Say'st thou me so ? What colour is this cloak of? SIMP. Red master ; red as blood. Glou. Why, that's well said. What colour is my gown of? SIMP. Black, forsooth: coal-black as jet. is of? Suf. And yet, I think, jet did he never see. Glou. But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many. WIFE. Never, before this day, in all his life. Glov. Tell me, sirrah, what's my name? SIMP. Alas, master, I know not. master. Glou. Then, Saunder, sit there, the lyingest knave in Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou mightst as well have known all our names as thus to name the several colours we do wear. Sight may distinguish of colours, but suddenly to nominate them all, it is impossible. My lords, Saint Alban here hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his cunning to be great, that could restore this cripple to his legs again? SIMP. O master, that you could! Glou. 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. [Exit an Attendant. Glou. Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. 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. |