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:

1

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,

To guard a title that was rich before,
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,

Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation I have possess'd you with, and think them strong;Meantime, 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.
Sal. Then I, as one that am the tongue of these,
Request

The enfranchisement of Arthur; whose restraint
Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent.
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.

K. John. Let it be so; I do commit his
To your direction.-

Enter HUBERT.

Hubert, what news with you?

youth

Pem. This is the man should do the bloody deed. 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. Sal. The colour of the king doth come and go, Between his purpose and his conscience.

K. John. We cannot hold mortality's strong hand. [Exit HUBERT. 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.

Ess. Indeed, we fear'd 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 answer'd, either here, or hence.

K. John. Why do you bend such solemn brows on

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.

[Exeunt ESSEX, PEMBROKE, and SALISBURY. K. John. They burn in indignation:-I repent: There is no sure foundation set on blood, No certain life achieved by others' death.[Exeunt KING JOHN and ENGLISH GENTLEMEN.

SCENE III.

England.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter KING JOHN, meeting the ENGLISH HERALD.

K. John. A fearful eye thou hast! Where is that blood,

That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks?—

How goes all in France?

E. Her. 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 learn'd 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?

Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care, That such an army could be drawn in France, And she not hear of it?

E. Her. My liege, her ear