Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake, Though that my death were adjunct' to my act, By heaven, I would do it.

K. J. Do not I know thou wouldst ?

Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,

He is a very serpent in my way:

And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,

He lies before me :-Dost thou understand me?—
Thou art his keeper.

1 could be merry, now:-Hubert, I love theeWell. I'll not say what I intend for thee: Remember

II.

146. FROM THE TRAGEDY OF KING JOHN.

PART SECOND.

[Interview of Hubert with Arthur, in which Hubert purposes to fulfill the murderous commission described in the preceding exercise, on which he was sent by King John.]

H

Enter HUBERT and two Attendants.

UBERT. Heat me these irons hot; and look thou stand
Within the arras: when I strike

my foot

Upon the bosom of the ground, rush förth,
And bind the boy, which you shall find with me,
Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch.

1st Attendant. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.

› Adjunct, joined to or united with. ? Trǎg' e dy, a poem prepared for the stage, representing some action having a fatal and mournful end; any event in which human lives are

lost by human violence.

'Arras, tapestry; hangings woven with figures, made first at Arras, the capital of Artois, in the French Netherlands.

Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you look to't.

[Attendants retire.

Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.

Enter ARTHUR.

Good-morrow, little prince.

Arthur. Good-morrow, Hubert.

Hub.

Arth. As little prince (having so great a title
To be more prince) as may be. You are sad.
Hub. Indeed, I have been mĕrrier.

Arth.
Mercy on me!
Methinks nobody should be sad but I:
Yet I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
Only for wantonnèss. By my christendom,
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,
I should be merry as the day is long;
And so I would be here, but that I doubt
My uncle practices more harm to me :
He is afraid of me, and I of him :
Is it my fault that I was Geoffrey's son?
No, indeed, is't not; and I would to heaven
were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate

He will awake my mercy, which lies dead :
Therefore I will be sudden, and dispatch.

[Aside.

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. His words do take possession of my bosom.

Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How now, fool

ish rheum!'

Turning dispiteous' torture out of door!
I must be brief, lest resolution drop
Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.
Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?

Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect :
Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?

Rheum, (röm), tears.

[Aside.

'Dis pĭt'e ous, malicious; furious

Hub. Young boy, I must.

Arth.

Hub.

And will you?

And I will.

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

I knit my handkerchief about your brows

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

And I did never ask it you again :

And with my hand at midnight held your head;
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,
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 should use me ill,
Why, then you must.-Will you put out mine eyes?
These eyes that never did, nor never shall,

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!
The iron, of itself, though heat red-hot,

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

Even in the matter of mine innocence;

Nay, after that, consume away in rust,

But for containing fire to harm mine eyes.

Are you

mōre stubborn-hard than hammered iron?

And if an angel should have come to

me,

And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,

I would not have believed no tongue but Hubert's.
Hub. Come fōrth.

Reënter Attendants, with cord, irons, etc.

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's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound!
Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away,
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb ;

I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the irons angerly;

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

Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with him.
1st. Atten. I am best pleased to be from such a deed.

[Attendants retire.

friend :

Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my
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,

Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.

Hub. Is this your promise? Go to; hold your tongue.

Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues
Must 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; oh, spare mine eyes:
Though to no use, but still to look on you!

Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold,

And would not harm me.

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;

! Create', poetical license for created.

The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,
And strewed 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 compelled to fight,
Snatch at his master that does 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.

eyes

Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine
For all the treasure that thine uncle owes ;
Yet I am sworn, and I did purpose, boy,
With this same very iron to burn them out.
Art. Oh, 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 doggèd' 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.

H

III.

147. FROM THE TRAGEDY OF KING JOHN.

PART THIRD.

[Piince Arthur is supposed to have been assassinated.]
Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT.

UBERT. My lord, they say five moons were seen to-night:
Four fixed; and the fifth did whirl about

The other four in wondrous motion.

1 Tarre, (tår), to excite; to set on. 2 Oreat' ure, (kret' yer), any thing created; hence Shakspeare here

calls fire and iron creatures.

'Dog' ged, surly; obstinate; sul len; sour; severe,