The iron of itself, tho' heat red-hot, Approaching near thefe eyes, would drink my tears, Even in the matter of mine innocence : And told me, Hubert fhould put out mine eyes, I would not have believ'd him: no tongue, but Hubert's. Hub. Come forth; do, as I bid you. [Stamps, and the men enter. Arth. O fave me, Hubert, fave me! my eyes are out, Ev'n 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 boift'rous-rough? I will not ftruggle, I will stand stone-still. For heav'n's fake, Hubert, let me not be bound. I will not ftir, nor wince, nor fpeak a word, Thruft but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Hub. Go, ftand within; let me alone with him. 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. Arth. O heav'n! that there were but a moth in yours, A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandring hair, Any annoyance in that precious fenfe: Then, feeling what fmall things are boift'rous there, Your vile intent muft needs feem horrible. Hub. Is this your promife? go to, hold your tongue.Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues R 3 Muft Muft needs want pleading for a pair of eyes: 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 extreams; fee elfe your felf, Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. That mercy which fierce fire and iron extend, Hub. Well, fee to live; I will not touch thine For all the treasure that thine uncle owns: Yet am I fworn; and I did purpose, boy, With this fame very iron to burn them out. eye, 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. Arth. O heav'n! I thank you, Hubert. Hub. Silence, no more; go clofely in with me. Much danger do I undergo for thee. [Exeunt. SCENE SCENE changes to the Court of England. Enter King John, Pembroke, Salisbury, and other Lords: K. John. HERE once again we fit, once again And look'd upon, I hope, with chearful eyes. Pemb. This once again, but that your highness pleas'd, Sal. Therefore to be poffefs'd with double pomp, To feek the beauteous eye of heav'n to garnish, Pemb. But that your royal pleasure must be done, And in the laft repeating trouble fome; Being urged at a time unseasonable. Sal. In this the antique and well-noted face It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about; Makes found opinion fick, and truth fufpected, Pemb. When workmen ftrive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness; (15) And oftentimes excufing of a fault (15) They do confound their Skill in Covetousness.] i. e. Not by their Avarice, but in an eager Emulation, an intense Desire of excelling; as in Henry V. But if it be a Sin to covet Honour, I am the moft offending Soul alive. R 4 Doth Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse: Than did the fault before it was fo patch'd. Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crown'd, We breath'd our counsel; but it pleas'd your highness To over-bear it; and we're all well pleas'd; Since all and every part of what we would, K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation Enter Hubert. K. John. Let it be fo; I do commit his youth To your direction. Hubert, what news with you? Pemb. Pemb. This is the man, fhould do the bloody deed: Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his Pemb. And when it breaks, I fear, will iffue thence The foul corruption of a sweet child's death. K. John. We cannot hold mortality's ftrong hand. Good lords, although my will to give is living, The fuit which you demand is gone, and dead. He tells us, Arthur is deceas'd to night. Sal. Indeed, we fear'd, his fickness was paft cure. Pemb. Indeed, we heard how near his death he was, Before the child himself felt he was fick. This must be answer'd, either here, or hence. K. John. Why do you bend fuch folemn brows on me? Think you, I bear the fhears of destiny? Have I commandment on the pulse of life? Sal. It is apparent foul-play, and 'tis shame That greatnefs fhould fo grofly offer it: So thrive it in your game, and fo farewel! Pemb. Stay yet, lord Salisbury, I'll go with thee, That blood, which own'd the breadth of all this ifle, [Exeunt. (16) Like Heralds, 'twixt two dreadful Battles fet ;] But Heralds are not planted, I prefume, in the midst betwixt two Lines of Battle; tho' they, and Trumpets, are often sent over from Party to Party, to propofe Terms, demand a Parley, &e. I have therefore ventur'd to read, fent. |