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 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, and if you will:
If Heaven be pleased 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. 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.—

Do as I bid

[HUBERT stamps, and the EXECUTIONERS enter with the Irons and Cords.

you. 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. Exec. I am best pleased to be from such a deed. [Exeunt EXECUTIONERS.

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. 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;

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. Hub: I will not touch thine eyes,

For all the treasure that thine uncle owes.

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

Hub. Peace; no more;

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

England.

The Palace.

Flourish of Drums and Trumpels.

KING JOHN upon his Throne, ESSEX, PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and ENGLISH GENTLEMEN, discovered.

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
pleased,

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

Eli. Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word. [Taking ARTHUR aside. K. John. Come hither, Hubert.-O my gentle

Hubert,

We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh
There is a soul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand.

I had a thing to say,—

But I will fit it with some better time.
By Heaven, Hubert, I am almost ashamed
To say what good respect I have of thee.

Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty.
K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say
so yet:

But thou shalt have: and creep time ne'er so slow,
Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to say.-But let it go;

The sun is in the Heaven: and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gauds,
To give me audience :-If the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;
If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit, Melancholy,

Had baked thy blood, and made it heavy, thick ;
Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins,
Making that idiot, Laughter, keep men's eyes,
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
A passion hateful to my purposes;-

Or if that thou could'st see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,

I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:
But, ah! I will not: Yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well.
Hub. So well, that what you bid me underta
Though that
death were adjunct to my act,

my

By Heav'n I'd do't.

K. John. 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.

Hub. And I'll keep him so,

That he shall not offend your majesty,

K. John. Death.

Hub. My lord?

K. John. A grave.

Hub. He shall not live.

K. John. Enough.

I could be merry now.-Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee.-
Remember.-Madam, fare you well:

I'll send those pow'rs o'er to your majesty.
Eli. My blessing go with thee!

[Exeunt ELINOR and ENGLISH Gentlemen. K. John. For England, cousin, go: Hubert shall be your man, attend on you With all true duty.-On, towards Calais, ho!Hubert, remember.

[Flourish of Drums and Trumpets.Exeunt KING JOHN, HUBERT, ARTHUR, the LORDS, GENTLEMEN, HERALD, and GUARDS.