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 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 him. No tongue but Hubert's.Hub. Come forth.

Re-enter Attendants, with cords, 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'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 pleased 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.

Arth. Is there no remedy?

Hub.

Come, boy, prepare yourself.

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; O, 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.

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 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 doth tarre1 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, see to live 2; I will not touch thine eyes

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.

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 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 3 in with me;
Much danger do I undergo for thee.

1 Urge, excite.

2 Live with thy sight uninjured.

3 In secret.

[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 seat.

K. John. Here once again we sit, once again crowned, And looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.

Pem. This once again, but that your highness pleased,
Was once superfluous: you were crowned before,
And that high royalty was ne'er plucked off;
The faiths of men ne'er stainèd with revolt;
Fresh expectation troubled not the land,
With any longed-for change, or better state.

Sal. Therefore, to be possessed 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 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 told;

And, in the last repeating, troublesome,

Being urgèd at a time unseasonable.

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

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 fashioned robe.

Pem. When workmen strive to do better than well,

They do confound their skill in covetousness1:

And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault,

Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse;

As patches, set upon a little breach,

Discredit more in hiding of the fault,

Than did the fault before it was so patched.

Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crowned, We breathed our counsel: but it pleased your highness

1 An ambition to excel.

To overbear it: and we are all well pleased;
Since all and every part of what we would,
Doth make a stand at what your highness will.

K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation
I have possessed you with, and think them strong:
And more, more strong, (when lesser is my fear,)
I shall indue1 you with: Meantime, but ask
What you would have reformed that is not well;
And well shall you perceive, how willingly
I will both hear and grant you your requests.
Pem. Then I, (as one that am the tongue of these,
To sound the purposes of all their hearts,)
Both for myself and them, (but, chief of all,
Your safety, for the which myself and them
Bend their best studies,) heartily request
The enfranchisement of Arthur; whose restraint
Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent
To break into this dangerous argument,-
If, what in rest2 you have, in right you hold,
Why, then, your fears, (which, as they say, attend
The steps of wrong,) should move you to mew up3
Your tender kinsman, and to choke his days
With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth
The rich advantage of good exercise?
That the time's enemies may not have this
To grace occasions, let it be our suit,
That you have bid us ask his liberty;
Which for our goods we do no further ask,
Than whereupon our weal, on you depending,
Counts it your weal, he have his liberty.

K. John. Let it be so; I do commit his youth

Enter HUBERT.

Το your direction.-Hubert, what news with you?
Pem. This is the man should do the bloody deed;
He showed his warrant to a friend of mine:

The image of a wicked heinous fault
Lives in his eye; that close aspéct of his

Does show the mood of a much-troubled breast;

1 Furnish, acquaint.
2 Fixedly, undisturbed.

3 Mew (to shut up); a mew, a place where hawks were shut up to

mew, or change their feathers. The stables at Whitehall were anciently called "mews," where the king's hawks were kept.

And I do fearfully believe, 'tis done,

What we so feared he had a charge to do.

Sal. The colour of the king doth come and go,
Between his purpose and his conscience,
Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set:
His passion is so ripe, it needs must break.

K. John. We cannot hold mortality's strong hand; -
Good lords, although my will to give is living,
The suit which you demand is gone and dead:
He tells us, Arthur is deceased to-night.

Sal. Indeed, we feared his sickness was past cure.
Pem. Indeed, we heard how near his death he was,
Before the child himself felt he was sick :

This must be answered, either here, or hence.

K. John. Why do you bend such solemn brows on me? Think you I bear the shears of destiny?

Have I commandment on the pulse of life?

Sal. It is apparent foul-play; and 'tis shame,
That greatness should so grossly offer it:
So thrive it in your game! and so farewell.
Pem. Stay yet, lord Salisbury, I'll go with thee,
And find the inheritance of this poor child,
His little kingdom of a forced grave.

That blood which owed the breadth of all this isle,
Three foot of it doth hold; Bad world the while!
This must not be thus borne: this will break out
To all our sorrows, and ere long, I doubt.

[Exeunt Lords.

K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent;
There is no sure foundation set in blood;
No certain life achieved by other's death.

Enter a Messenger.

A fearful eye thou hast! Where is that blood,
That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks?

So foul a sky clears not without a storm:

Pour down thy weather.- How goes all in France?
Mess. From France to England.-Never such a power

For any foreign preparation,

Was levied in the body of a land!

The copy of your speed is learned by them;
For when you should be told they do prepare,

The tidings come that they are all arrived.

K. John. O, where hath our intelligence been drunk?