Hub. Young boy, I must.

Arth.

Hub.

Arth. Have you

but ake,

And will you?

And I will.

the heart? When your head did

I knit my hankerchief 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 cheer'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 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 pleas'd that you must 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 his fiery indignation

Even in the matter of mine innocence:

Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Are

you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron?

5 The participle heat, though now obsolete, was in use in Shakspeare's time. He commanded that they should heat the furnace one seven times more than it was wont to be heat.'-Daniel, iii. 19.

An if an angel should have come to me,

And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes,

I would not have believ'd him; no tongue, but Hu

bert's.

Hub. Come forth.

[Stamps.

Re-enter Attendants, with Cords, Irons, &c.

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 boist'rous-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 iron angerly :

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

Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with him. 1 Attend. I am best pleas'd to be from such a deed. [Exeunt Attendants. 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 wand'ring hair,

Any annoyance in that precious sense!

Then, feeling what small things are boist'rous 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 6, So I may keep mine eyes: O, spare mine Though to no use, but still to look on you! Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold, And would not harm me.

Hub.

eyes;

I can heat it, boy.

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

Being create for comfort, to be us'd

In undeserv'd extremes 7: See else yourself;
There is no malice in this burning coal;

The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,
And strew'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.

6 This is according to nature,' says Johnson. 'We imagine no evil so great as that which is near us.'

7 The fire being created, not to hurt, but to comfort, is dead with grief for finding itself used in acts of cruelty, which, being innocent, I have not deserved.'

8 i. e. stimulate, set him on. The word occurs again in Hamlet: And the nation holds it no sin to tarre them on to contro

versy.' And in Troilus and Cressida :

'Pride alone must tarre the mastiffs on.'

It has been derived from Tapárrw, excito; but H. Tooke says that it is from Tyran, A. S. exacerbare, irritare.

Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine For all the treasure that thine uncle owes 9: Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy, With this same very iron to burn them out.

eyes

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

Peace: no more.

Adieu:

Hub.
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 10 in with me; Much danger do I undergo for thee. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The same. A Room of State in the Palace. Enter KING JOHN, crowned; PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and other Lords. The King takes his State.

K. John. Here once again we sit, once again crown'd,

And look'd upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes. Pem. This once again, but that your highness pleas'd,

Was once superfluous1: you were crown'd before, And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off;

9 Owns.

10 i. e. secretly, privately. So in Albumazar, 1610, Act iii. Sc. 1:

'I'll entertain him here; meanwhile steal you

Closely into the room.'

1 i. e. this one time more was one time more than enough. It should be remembered that King John was now crowned for the fourth time.

The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt;
Fresh expectation troubled not the land,
With any long'd-for change, or better state.

Sal. Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp,
To guard 2 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 seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.

Pem. But that your royal pleasure must be done,
This act is as an ancient tale new told3;
And, in the last repeating, troublesome,
Being urged at a time unseasonable.

Sal. In this, the antique and well noted face Of plain old form is much disfigured:

And, like a shifted wind unto a sail,

It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about:
Startles and frights consideration;

Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected,
For putting on so new a fashion'd robe.

Pem. When workmen strive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness*: And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault,

Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse;
As patches, set upon a little breach,

2 To guard is to ornament. So in the Merchant of Venice, Act ii. Sc. 2:—

give him a livery

More guarded than his fellows.'

3 Shakspeare has here repeated an idea which he had first put into the mouth of the Dauphin :

Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,

Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.'

4 i. e. not by their avarice, but in an eager desire of excelling.

As in King Henry V.:

But if it be a sin to covet honour,

I am the most offending soul alive.'