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But cloaks and gowns before this day, a many.

WIFE.

Never before this day in all his life.

GLOUCESTER.

Tell me, sirrah, what's my name?

SIMPCOX.

Alas, master, I know not.

GLOUCESTER.

What's his name?

SIMPCOX.

I know not.

GLOUCESTER.

Nor his?

SIMPCOX.

No, indeed, master.

GLOUCESTER.

What's thine own name?

SIMPCOX.

Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master.

GLOUCESTER.

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?

SIMPCOX.

O master, that you could!

GLOUCESTER.

My masters of Saint Alban's, have you not beadles in your town, and things called whips?

MAYOR.

Yes, my lord, if it please your grace.

GLOUCESTER.

Then send for one presently.

MAYOR.

Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight.

[Exit an Attendant.]

GLOUCESTER.

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.

SIMPCOX.

Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone;

You go about to torture me in vain.

[Enter a Beadle with whips.]

GLOUCESTER.

Well, sir, we must have you find your legs.—

Sirrah beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool.

BEADLE.

I will, my lord.—Come on, sirrah; off with your doublet quickly.

SIMPCOX.

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 they follow and cry, 'A miracle!']

KING.

O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long?

QUEEN.

It made me laugh to see the villain run.

GLOUCESTER.

Follow the knave, and take this drab away.

WIFE.

Alas, sir, we did it for pure need!

GLOUCESTER.

Let them be whipped through every market-town till they come to Berwick, from whence they came.

[Exeunt Wife, Beadle, Mayor, etc.]

CARDINAL.

Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day.

SUFFOLK.

True; made the lame to leap and fly away.

GLOUCESTER.

But you have done more miracles than I;

You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly.

[Enter BUCKINGHAM.]

KING.

What tidings with our cousin Buckingham?

BUCKINGHAM.

Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold.

A sort of naughty persons, lewdly 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 underground,

Demanding of King Henry's life and death,

And other of your highness' privy-council,

As more at large your Grace shall understand.

CARDINAL.

[Aside to Gloucester.] 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;

'T is like, my lord, you will not keep your hour.

GLOUCESTER.

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.

KING.

O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones,

Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby!

QUEEN.

Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest;

And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best.

GLOUCESTER.

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 dishonoured Gloucester's honest name.

KING.

Well, for this night we will repose us here;

To-morrow