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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)

    715Enter the King, Queene, Protector, Cardinall, and
    Suffolke, with Faulkners hallowing.
    Queene. Beleeue me Lords, for flying at the Brooke,
    I saw not better sport these seuen yeeres day:
    Yet by your leaue, the Winde was very high,
    720And ten to one, old Ioane had not gone out.
    King. But what a point, my Lord, your Faulcon made,
    And what a pytch she flew aboue the rest:
    To see how God in all his Creatures workes,
    Yea Man and Birds are fayne of climbing high.
    725Suff. No maruell, and it like your Maiestie,
    My Lord Protectors Hawkes doe towre so well,
    They know their Master loues to be aloft,
    And beares his thoughts aboue his Faulcons Pitch.
    Glost. My Lord, 'tis but a base ignoble minde,
    730That mounts no higher then a Bird can sore:
    Card. I
    126The second Part of Henry the Sixt.
    Card. I thought as much, hee would be aboue the
    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-
    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
    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
    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
    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
    Suff. And yet I thinke, Iet did he neuer see.
    Glost. But
    The second Part of Henry the Sixt.127
    Glost. But Cloakes and Gownes, before this day, a
    Wife. Neuer before this day, in all his life.
    Glost. Tell me Sirrha, what's my Name?
    Simpc. Alas Master, I know not.
    Glost. What's his Name?
    865Simpc. I know not.
    Glost. Nor his?
    Simpc. No indeede, Master.
    Glost. What's thine owne Name?
    Simpc. Saunder Simpcoxe, and if it please you, Master.
    870Glost. Then Saunder, sit there,
    The lying'st Knaue in Christendome.
    If thou hadst beene borne blinde,
    Thou might'st as well haue knowne all our Names,
    As thus to name the seuerall Colours we doe weare.
    875Sight may distinguish of Colours:
    But suddenly to nominate them all,
    It is impossible.
    My Lords, Saint Albone here hath done a Miracle:
    And would ye not thinke it, Cunning to be great,
    880That could restore this Cripple to his Legges againe.
    Simpc. O Master, that you could?
    Glost. My Masters of Saint Albones,
    Haue you not Beadles in your Towne,
    And Things call'd Whippes?
    885Maior. Yes, my Lord, if it please your Grace.
    Glost. Then send for one presently.
    Maior. Sirrha, goe fetch the Beadle hither straight.
    Glost. Now fetch me a Stoole hither by and by.
    890Now Sirrha, if you meane to saue your selfe from Whip-
    ping, leape me ouer this Stoole, and runne away.
    Simpc. Alas Master, I am not able to stand alone:
    You goe about to torture me in vaine.
    Enter a Beadle with Whippes.
    895Glost. Well Sir, we must haue you finde your Legges.
    Sirrha Beadle, whippe him till he leape ouer that same
    Beadle. I will, my Lord.
    Come on Sirrha, off with your Doublet, quickly.
    900Simpc. Alas Master, what shall I doe? I am not able to
    After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leapes ouer
    the Stoole, and runnes away: and they
    follow, and cry, A Miracle.
    905King. O God, seest thou this, and bearest so long?
    Queene. It made me laugh, to see the Villaine runne.
    Glost. Follow the Knaue, and take this Drab away.
    Wife. Alas Sir, we did it for pure need.
    Glost. Let thẽ be whipt through euery Market Towne,
    910Till they come to Barwick, from whence they came.
    Card. Duke Humfrey ha's done a Miracle to day.
    Suff. True: made the Lame to leape and flye away.
    Glost. But you haue done more Miracles then I:
    915You made in a day, my Lord, whole Townes to flye.
    Enter Buckingham.
    King. What Tidings with our Cousin Buckingham?
    Buck. Such as my heart doth tremble to vnfold:
    A sort of naughtie persons, lewdly bent,
    920Vnder the Countenance and Confederacie
    Of Lady Elianor, the Protectors Wife,
    The Ring-leader and Head of all this Rout,
    Haue practis'd dangerously against your State,
    Dealing with Witches and with Coniurers,
    925Whom we haue apprehended in the Fact,
    Raysing vp wicked Spirits from vnder ground,
    Demanding of King Henries Life and Death,
    And other of your Highnesse Priuie Councell,
    As more at large your Grace shall vnderstand.
    930Card. And so my Lord Protector, by this meanes
    Your Lady is forth-comming, yet at London.
    This Newes I thinke hath turn'd your Weapons edge;
    'Tis like, my Lord, you will not keepe your houre.
    Glost. Ambitious Church-man, leaue to afflict my heart:
    935Sorrow and griefe haue vanquisht all my powers;
    And vanquisht as I am, I yeeld to thee,
    Or to the meanest Groome.
    King. O God, what mischiefes work the wicked ones?
    Heaping confusion on their owne heads thereby.
    940Queene. Gloster, see here the Taincture of thy Nest,
    And looke thy selfe be faultlesse, thou wert best.
    Glost. Madame, for my selfe, to Heauen I doe appeale,
    How I haue lou'd my King, and Common-weale:
    And for my Wife, I know not how it stands,
    945Sorry I am to heare what I haue heard.
    Noble shee is: but if shee haue forgot
    Honor and Vertue, and conuers't with such,
    As like to Pytch, defile Nobilitie;
    I banish her my Bed, and Companie,
    950And giue her as a Prey to Law and Shame,
    That hath dis-honored Glosters honest Name.
    King. Well, for this Night we will repose vs here:
    To morrow toward London, back againe,
    To looke into this Businesse thorowly,
    955And call these foule Offendors to their Answeres;
    And poyse the Cause in Iustice equall Scales,
    Whose Beame stands sure, whose rightful cause preuailes.
    Flourish. Exeunt.