The Second Part of King Henry the Sixth. Уильям Шекспир
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.
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