That none so small advantage shall step forth, No scape of nature, no distemper'd day, Lew. May be, he will not touch young Arthur's life, But hold himself safe in his prisonment. Pand. O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach, If that young Arthur be not gone already, Lew. Strong reasons make strong actions: Let us go: If you say, ay, the king will not say, no. [Exeunt, ACT IV. SCENE I. Northampton. A room in the castle. Enter Hubert and two Attendants. Hub. Heat me these irons hot; and, look thou stand Within the arras*: when I strike my foot Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth: And bind the boy, which you shall find with me, Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch. 1 Attend. I hope, your warrant will bear out the deed. to't. Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you look [Exeunt Attendants. Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. Enter Arthur. Arth. Good morrow, Hubert. Hub. Good morrow, little prince. Arth. As little prince (having so great a title To be more prince,) as may be. You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier. Arth. Mercy on me! Methinks, nobody should be sad but I: Yet, I remember, when I was in France, Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, Only for wantonness. By my christendom, So I were out of prison, and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long; And so I would be here, but that I doubt My uncle practises more harm to me : He is afraid of me, and I of him : Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son? No, indeed, is't not; And I would to heaven, I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert. Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate He will awake my mercy, which lies dead": Therefore, I will be sudden, and despatch. [Aside. Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale today: In sooth, I would you were a little sick ; That I might sit all night, and watch with you: som. Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How now, foolish rheum? Turning dispiteous torture out of door! Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.- [Aside. Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? Hub. Young boy, I must. Arth. Hub. And will you? And I will. Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ake, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, (The best I had, a princess wrought it me,) And with my hand at midnight held your head; Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your grief? Or, What good love may I perform for you? 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, Even in the matter of mine innocence: And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes, Re-enter Attendants, with cords, irons, &c. Do as I bid 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! I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with him. 1 Attend. I am best pleas'd to be from such a deed. [Exit 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 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 us'd In undeserv'd extremes*: See else yourself; The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out, Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends, Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses. Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes For all the treasure that thine uncle owes‡: In cruelty I have not deserved. * Set him on. * Owns. |