Ay, indeed, was he.
Yes, really, he was.
Wife of Simpcox · Act 2, Scene 1
The Wife is confirming that Simpcox was indeed born blind, supporting his story about being miraculously healed by Saint Alban. The line matters because it is the moment before Gloucester exposes the fraud, when the lie still stands and everyone believes it—and her simple affirmation is what makes the deception convincing. It shows that lies are easiest to tell when the teller has nothing to gain but loyalty.
A plum-tree, master.
A plum tree, sir.
Wife of Simpcox · Act 2, Scene 1
The Wife is correcting Simpcox's story about how he lost his sight, specifying it was a plum-tree he fell from, not just any tree. The detail matters because it is exactly the kind of small, lived-in particular that makes a lie convincing—but Gloucester will soon show that it is impossible for a man blind from birth to climb a tree for plums. It reveals that the Wife is either complicit in the fraud or has been fooled by it, and that her specificity proves nothing.
Too true; and bought his climbing very dear.
It’s true; and he paid dearly for trying to climb.
Wife of Simpcox · Act 2, Scene 1
The Wife is saying that Simpcox's fall from the plum-tree cost him dearly—presumably his sight—and the bitterness in the line suggests she has suffered too. The words matter because they seem to close the story, to make the miracle real by grounding it in real pain and real consequence. Within moments, Gloucester will prove the whole thing is a trick, making her words a monument to a lie.
Never, before this day, in all his life.
Never, not once in his life until today.
Wife of Simpcox · Act 2, Scene 1
The Wife is insisting that Simpcox has never seen anything in his life until today, when the miracle happened, and this absolute claim is what Gloucester uses to trap her. The line matters because it stakes everything on the power of the miracle—if he has never seen, then all the colors he names must come from divine grace. It is the fatal overreach that undoes the fraud.