[60] Poore man. I sir, it was told me in my sleepe,
That sweet saint Albones, should giue me my sight againe.
[♦] Humphrey. What art thou lame too?
[♦] Poore man. I indeed sir, God helpe me.
Humphrey. How cam’st thou lame?
[65] Poore man. With falling off on a plum-tree.
[♦] Humph. Wart thou blind & wold clime plumtrees?
Poore man. Neuer but once sir in all my life,
My wife did long for plums.
[♦] Humph. But tell me, wart thou borne blinde?