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The iron of itself, tho' heat red-hot,

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

Even in the matter of mine innocence :
Nay, after that, confume away in ruft,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Are you more ftubborn-hard, than hammer'd iron?
Oh! if an Angel fhould have come to me,

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.
Nay, hear me, Hubert, drive thefe men away,
And I will fit as quiet as a lamb.

I will not ftir, nor wince, nor fpeak a word,
Nor look upon the iron angrily:

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

Hub. Go, ftand within; let me alone with him.
Exec. I am beft pleas'd to be from fuch a deed. [Exeunt.
Arth. Alas, I then have chid away my friend;

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:
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 fpare mine eyes!
Though to no use, but ftill to look on you.
Lo, by my troth, the inftrument is cold,
And would not harm me.

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,
There is no malice in this burning coal;
The breath of heav'n hath blown its spirit out,
And ftrew'd repentant afhes on its 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 fhame 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 mafter 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 extend,
Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses.

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.
I'll fill these dogged fpies with falfe reports:
And, pretty child, fleep doubtlefs, and secure,
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend thee.

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,
Was once fuperfluous; you were crown'd before,
And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off:
The faiths of men ne'er ftained with revolt:
Fresh expectation troubled not the land
With any long'd-for change, or better state.

Sal. Therefore to be poffefs'd with double pomp,
To guard a title that was rich before;
To gild refined gold, to paint the lilly,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To fmooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light

To feek the beauteous eye of heav'n to garnish,
Is wafteful and ridiculous excess.

Pemb. But that your royal pleasure must be done,
This act is as an ancient tale new told,

And in the laft repeating trouble fome;

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 fhifted wind unto a fail,

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

Makes found opinion fick, and truth fufpected,
For putting on fo new a fashion'd robe.

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:
As patches, fet upon a little breach,
Difcredit more in hiding of the fault,

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,
Muft make a stand at what your highness will.

K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation
I have poffeft you with, and think them ftrong.
And more, more ftrong (the leffer is my fear)
I shall endue you with: mean time, but ask
What you would have reform'd, that is not well,
And well shall you perceive how willingly
I will both hear and grant you your requests.
Pemb. Then I, as one that am the tongue of these,
To found the purposes of all their hearts,
(Both for myself and them; but chief of all,
Your fafety; for the which, myself and they
Bend their beft ftudies;) heartily request
Th' infranchifement of Arthur; whofe reftraint
Doth move the murm'ring lips of discontent
To break into this dang'rous argument;
If what in reft you have, in right you hold,
Why fhou'd your fears, (which, as they fay, attend
The fteps of wrong) then move you to mew up
Your tender kinfman, and to choke his days
With barb'rous ignorance, and deny his youth
The rich advantage of good exercise?
That the time's enemies may not have this
To grace occafions, let it be our fuit,
That you have bid us ask his liberty;
Which for our good we do no further ask,
Than whereupon our weal, on you depending,
Counts it your weal, that he have liberty.

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:
He fhew'd his warrant to a friend of mine.
The image of a wicked heinous fault

Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his
Does fhew the mood of a much-troubled breast.
And I do fearfully believe 'tis done,
What we so fear'd he had a charge to do.
Sal. The colour of the King doth come and
go,
Between his purpofe and his confcience,
Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles fent: (16)
His paffion is fo ripe, it needs must break.

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,
And find th' inheritance of this poor child,
His little kingdom of a forced grave.

That blood, which own'd the breadth of all this ifle,
Three foot of it doth hold; bad world the while!
This must not be thus borne; this will break out
To all our forrows, and ere long, I doubt.

[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.

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