Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son? No, indeed, is't not; and I would to heaven I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert. Hub. [Aside] If I talk to him, with his innocent prate He will awake my mercy which lies dead : Therefore I will be sudden and dispatch. Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day : In sooth, I would you were a little sick, That I might sit all night and watch with you. I warrant I love you more than you do me. Hub. [Aside] His words do take possession of my bosom. Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper. [Aside] How now, foolish rheum! Turning dispiteous torture out of door! I must be brief, lest resolution drop Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears. Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect : Arth. Hub. And will you? And I will. Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkercher about your brows, The best I had, a princess wrought it me, And with my hand at midnight held your head, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time, Saying, 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?' Or 'What good love may I perform for you ?' Many a poor man's son would have lain still And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you ; But you at your sick service had a prince. Nay, you may think my love was crafty love And call it cunning: do, an if you will: If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, So much as frown on you. Hub. I have sworn to do it; And with hot irons must I burn them out. Arth. Ah, none but in this iron age would do it! Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears Even in the matter of mine innocence; Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron? And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes, I would not have believed him. No tongue but Hubert's,— Come forth. Hub. Re-enter Executioners, with a cord, irons, &c. Do as I bid you do. [Stamps. Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes are out Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men. Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. Arth. Alas, what need you be so boisterous-rough? I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still. For heaven sake, Hubert, let me not be bound! And I will sit as quiet as a lamb ; I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Nor look upon the iron angerly: Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with him. First Exec. I am best pleased to be from such a deed. [Exeunt Executioners. *Heat, used as a participle. Arth. Alas, I then have chid away my friend! He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart: Let him come back, that his compassion may Give life to yours. Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself. Arth. Is there no remedy? Hub. None, but to lose your eyes. Arth. O heaven, that there were but a mote in yours, A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair, Any annoyance in that precious sense! Then feeling what small things are boisterous there, Hub. Is this your promise? go to, hold your tongue. So I may keep mine eyes: O, spare mine eyes, Hub. I can heat it, boy. Arth. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with grief, Being create* for comfort, to be used In undeserved extremes: see else yourself; .There is no malice in this burning coal; The breath of heaven has blown his spirit out And strewed repentant ashes on his head. Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. * Create, for created. That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends, Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes Yet am I sworn and I did purpose, boy, With this same very iron to burn them out. Arth. O, now you look like Hubert! all this while You were disguised. Hub. Peace; no more. Adieu. Your uncle must not know but you are dead; I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports: And, pretty child, sleep doubtless and secure, That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world, Will not offend thee. Arth. O heaven! I thank you, Hubert. Hub. Silence: no more: go closely in with me: Much danger do I undergo for thee. W. Shakespeare. Hub. XVIII. KING JOHN. ACT IV. SCENE II.-A Room in the Palace. KING JOHN and HUBERT. Y lord, they say five moons were seen tonight; Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about The other four in wondrous motion. K. John. Five moons! Hub. Old men and beldams in the streets Do prophesy upon it dangerously: Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths : And he that speaks doth gripe the hearer's wrist, With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. Cuts off his tale and talks of Arthur's death. K. John. Why seek'st thou to possess me with these fears? Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death? Thy hand hath murdered him: I had a mighty cause Hub. None had, my lord! why, did you not provoke me? K. John. It is the curse of kings to be attended By slaves that take their humours for a warrant To break within the bloody house of life, And on the winking of authority To understand a law; to know the meaning Of dangerous majesty, when perchance it frowns More upon humour than advised respect. Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what I did. K. John. O, when the last account 'twixt heaven and earth Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal Witness against us to damnation ! How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds |