My uncle practises more harm to me:
He is afraid of me, and I of him :
Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's fon?

No, indeed, is't not; And I would to heaven,
I were your fon, fo you would love me, Hubert.
Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent
He will awake my mercy, which lies dead :
Therefore I will be fudden, and dispatch.

prate

[Afide.

Arth. Are you fick, Hubert? you look pale to-day :

In footh, I would you were a little fick;

That I might fit all night, and watch with you:

I warrant, I love you more than you do me.

Hub. His words do take poffeffion of my bofom.

Read here, young Arthur

How now, foolish rheum!

Turning difpiteous torture out of door?

I must be brief; left refolution drop

[Shewing a paper.

Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.-
Can

you not read it? is it not fair writ?

Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for fo foul effect:
Muft
you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
Hub. Young boy, I must.

Arth. And will you?

Hub. And I will.

[Afide.

Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ake,

I knit my handkerchief about your brows,

(The best I had, a princess wrought it me)

And I did never afk it you again :

And with my hand at midnight held your head;
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,

Þ a fact.

like the watchful minutes to the hour,]-the minutes in a clock, which relieve by marking how much of a tedious hour is gone, or to

come.

Y 2

Still

Still and anon chear'd 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 fon would have lain still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
But you at your fick 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 pleas'd that you must use me ill,
Why, then
you muft.-Will you put out mine eyes ?
These eyes, that never did, nor never shall,
So much as frown on you ?

Hub. I have fworn to do it;

And with hot irons must I burn them out.

Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it! The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,

Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears,
And quench his fiery indignation,

Even in the matter of mine innocence :
Nay, after that, confume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.

Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron?
And if an angel fhould have come to me,
And told me, Hubert fhould put out mine eyes,

I would not have believ'd him; no tongue, but Hubert's. [Hubert Stamps, and the men enter.

Hub. Come forth; do as I bid you do.

Arth. O, fave me, Hubert, fave me! my eyes are out,

Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.

Hub. Give me the iron, I fay, and bind him here.
Arth. Alas, what need you be fo boisterous-rough?

I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still.
For heaven's fake, Hubert, let me not be bound!
Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away,

And

And I will fit as quiet as a lamb ;

I will not ftir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the iron angerly:

Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
Whatever torment you do put me to..

Hub. Go, ftand within; let me alone with him.
Exec. I am beft pleas'd to be from fuch a deed.

Artb. Alas, I then have chid away my friend;
He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart :-
Let him come back, that his compaffion may
Give life to yours.

Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself.

Arth. Is there no remedy?

Hub. None, but to lose your eyes.

[Exeunt.

Artb. O heaven-that there were but a ' moth in yours, A grain, a duft, a gnat, a wandring hair,

Any annoyance in that precious fenfe!

Then, feeling what fmall things are boisterous there,

Your vile intent must needs feem horrible.

Hub. Is this your promife? go to, hold your tongue. Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues Muft needs want pleading for a pair of eyes: Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert ! Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, So I may keep mine eyes; O, spare mine eyes; Though to no ufe, but ftill to look on you! Lo, by my troth, the inftrument is cold,

And would not harm me.

Hub. I can heat it, boy.

Arth. No, in good footh; the fire is dead with grief,

Being create for comfort, to be us'd

'In undeferv'd extremes: See else yourself;

mote.

• In undeferv'd extremes:]-acts of cruelty.

Y 3

There

There is no malice in this burning coal;
The breath of heaven hath blown his fpirit out,
And ftrew'd repentant ashes on his head.

Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.

Arth. And if you do, you will but make it blush,
And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert:
Nay, it, perchance, will sparkle in your eyes;
And, like a dog, that is compell'd to fight,
Snatch at his master that doth tarre him on.
All things, that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office; only you do lack

That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends,
Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses.

Hub. Well, 'fee to live; I will not touch thine eye For all the treasure that thine uncle owes : Yet am I fworn, and I did purpose, boy,

With this fame very iron to burn them out.

Arth. O, now you look like Hubert all this while You were disguised.

Your uncle must not know but you are dead:
I'll fill these dogged fpies with false reports.
And, pretty child, fleep doubtlefs, and fecure,
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.

[Exeunt.

t fee to live;]-think how to live, and take no more thought about

your eyes; they're fafe enough.

SCENE

SCEN E II.

The Court of England.

Enter King John, Pembroke, Salisbury, and other Lords.

K. John. Here once again we fit, once again crown'd, And look'd upon, I hope, with chearful eyes.

Pemb. "This once again, but that your highness pleas'd,'
Was once fuperfluous: you were crown'd before,
And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off;
The faiths of men ne'er ftained with revolt;
Fresh expectation troubled not the land,
With any long'd-for change, or better state.
Sal. Therefore, to be poffefs'd with double pomp,
To guard a title that was rich before,
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light

To feek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wafteful, and ridiculous excess.

Pemb. But that your royal pleasure must be done,
This act is as an ancient tale new told;

And, in the last repeating, troublesome,
Being urged at a time unfeasonable.

Sal. In this, the antique and well-noted face
Of plain old form is much disfigured:
And, like a shifted wind unto a fail,

It makes the courfe of thoughts to fetch about;
Startles and frights confideration;

Makes found opinion fick, and truth suspected,
For putting on fo new a fashion'd robe.

" This once again,]-This was the fourth time.

To guard]-Ornament with fringe, lace, or other foppery.