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  • Title: Henry VI, Part 2 (Folio 1, 1623)

  • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
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    Henry VI, Part 2 (Folio 1, 1623)

    126The second Part of Henry the Sixt.
    Card. I thought as much, hee would be aboue the
    Clouds.
    Glost. I my Lord Cardinall, how thinke you by that?
    Were it not good your Grace could flye to Heauen?
    735King. The Treasurie of euerlasting Ioy.
    Card. Thy Heauen is on Earth, thine Eyes & Thoughts
    Beat on a Crowne, the Treasure of thy Heart,
    Pernitious Protector, dangerous Peere,
    That smooth'st it so with King and Common-weale.
    740Glost. What, Cardinall?
    Is your Priest-hood growne peremptorie?
    Tantaene animis Coelestibus irae, Church-men so hot?
    Good Vnckle hide such mallice:
    With such Holynesse can you doe it?
    745Suff. No mallice Sir, no more then well becomes
    So good a Quarrell, and so bad a Peere.
    Glost. As who, my Lord?
    Suff. Why, as you, my Lord,
    An't like your Lordly Lords Protectorship.
    750Glost. Why Suffolke, England knowes thine insolence.
    Queene. And thy Ambition, Gloster.
    King. I prythee peace, good Queene,
    And whet not on these furious Peeres,
    For blessed are the Peace-makers on Earth.
    755Card. Let me be blessed for the Peace I make
    Against this prowd Protector with my Sword.
    Glost. Faith holy Vnckle, would't were come to that.
    Card. Marry, when thou dar'st.
    Glost. Make vp no factious numbers for the matter,
    760In thine owne person answere thy abuse.
    Card. I, where thou dar'st not peepe:
    And if thou dar'st, this Euening,
    On the East side of the Groue.
    King. How now, my Lords?
    765Card. Beleeue me, Cousin Gloster,
    Had not your man put vp the Fowle so suddenly,
    We had had more sport.
    Come with thy two-hand Sword.
    Glost. True Vnckle, are ye aduis'd?
    770The East side of the Groue:
    Cardinall, I am with you.
    King. Why how now, Vnckle Gloster?
    Glost. Talking of Hawking; nothing else, my Lord.
    Now by Gods Mother, Priest,
    775Ile shaue your Crowne for this,
    Or all my Fence shall fayle.
    Card. Medice teipsum, Protector see to't well, protect
    your selfe.
    King. The Windes grow high,
    780So doe your Stomacks, Lords:
    How irkesome is this Musick to my heart?
    When such Strings iarre, what hope of Harmony?
    I pray my Lords let me compound this strife.

    Enter one crying a Miracle.

    785Glost. What meanes this noyse?
    Fellow, what Miracle do'st thou proclayme?
    One. A Miracle, a Miracle.
    Suffolke. Come to the King, and tell him what Mi-
    racle.
    790One. Forsooth, a blinde man at Saint Albones Shrine,
    Within this halfe houre hath receiu'd his sight,
    A man that ne're saw in his life before.
    King. Now God be prays'd, that to beleeuing Soules
    Giues Light in Darknesse, Comfort in Despaire.

    795Enter the Maior of Saint Albones, and his Brethren,
    bearing the man betweene two in a Chayre.

    Card. Here comes the Townes-men, on Procession,
    To present your Highnesse with the man.
    King. Great is his comfort in this Earthly Vale,
    800Although by his sight his sinne be multiplyed.
    Glost. Stand by, my Masters, bring him neere the King,
    His Highnesse pleasure is to talke with him.
    King. Good-fellow, tell vs here the circumstance,
    That we for thee may glorifie the Lord.
    805What, hast thou beene long blinde, and now restor'd?
    Simpc. Borne blinde, and't please your Grace.
    Wife. I indeede was he.
    Suff. What Woman is this?
    Wife. His Wife, and't like your Worship.
    810Glost. Hadst thou been his Mother, thou could'st haue
    better told.
    King. Where wert thou borne?
    Simpc. At Barwick in the North, and't like your
    Grace.
    815King. Poore Soule,
    Gods goodnesse hath beene great to thee:
    Let neuer Day nor Night vnhallowed passe,
    But still remember what the Lord hath done.
    Queene. Tell me, good-fellow,
    820Cam'st thou here by Chance, or of Deuotion,
    To this holy Shrine?
    Simpc. God knowes of pure Deuotion,
    Being call'd a hundred times, and oftner,
    In my sleepe, by good Saint Albon:
    825Who said; Symon, come; come offer at my Shrine,
    And I will helpe thee.
    Wife. Most true, forsooth:
    And many time and oft my selfe haue heard a Voyce,
    To call him so.
    830Card. What, art thou lame?
    Simpc. I, God Almightie helpe me.
    Suff. How cam'st thou so?
    Simpc. A fall off of a Tree.
    Wife. A Plum-tree, Master.
    835Glost. How long hast thou beene blinde?
    Simpc. O borne so, Master.
    Glost. What, and would'st climbe a Tree?
    Simpc. But that in all my life, when I was a youth.
    Wife. Too true, and bought his climbing very deare.
    840Glost. 'Masse, thou lou'dst Plummes well, that would'st
    venture so.
    Simpc. Alas, good Master, my Wife desired some
    Damsons, and made me climbe, with danger of my
    Life.
    845Glost. A subtill Knaue, but yet it shall not serue:
    Let me see thine Eyes; winck now, now open them,
    In my opinion, yet thou seest not well.
    Simpc. Yes Master, cleare as day, I thanke God and
    Saint Albones.
    850Glost. Say'st thou me so: what Colour is this Cloake
    of?
    Simpc. Red Master, Red as Blood.
    Glost. Why that's well said: What Colour is my
    Gowne of?
    855Simpc. Black forsooth, Coale-Black, as Iet.
    King. Why then, thou know'st what Colour Iet is
    of?
    Suff. And yet I thinke, Iet did he neuer see.
    Glost. But