No, no; when fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threat'ning eye.
"Tis ftrange to think how much King John hath loft
In this, which he accounts fo clearly won.
Are not you griev'd, that Arthur is his prisoner?
Lewis. As heartily, as he is glad he hath him.
Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
Now hear me speak with a prophetick spirit;
For ev'n the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each duft, each ftraw, each little rub,
Out of the path which shall directly lead

Thy foot to England's throne: and therefore mark..
John hath feiz'd Arthur, and it cannot be
That whilft warm life plays in that infant's veins,
The misplac'd John fhould entertain an hour,
A minute, nay, one quiet breath, of rest.
A fcepter, fnatch'd with an unruly hand,
Must be as boift' roufly maintain'd, as gain'd.
And he, that ftands upon a flipp'ry place,
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.
That John may ftand, then Arthur needs must fall;
So be it, for it cannot be but fo.

Lewis. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall? Pand. You, in the right of lady Blanch your wife, May then make all the claim that Arthur did.

Lewis. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
Pand. How green you are, and fresh in this old
world?

John lays you plots; the times confpire with you;
For he, that fteeps his fafety in true blood,
Shall find but bloody fafety and untrue.
This act, fo evilly born, fhall cool the hearts
Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal ;
That no fo fmall advantage shall step forth
To check his reign, but they will cherish it.
No nat'ral exhalation in the sky,
No 'scape of nature, no diftemper'd day,
No common wind, no cuftomed event,
But they will pluck away its nat' ral cause,
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,
VOL. III.

R

Abor

Abortives, and prefages, tongues of heav'n
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.:

Lewis. May be, he will not touch young Arthur's life; But hold himself fafe in his prifonment.

Pand. O Sir, when he fhall hear of your approach, If that young Arthur be not gone already, Ev'n at this news he dies: and then the hearts Of all his people shall revolt from him, And kifs the lips of unacquainted change; And pick ftrong matter of revolt and wrath, Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John. Methinks, I fee this hurly all on foot; And O, what better matter breeds for you Than I have nam'd!The baftard Faulconbridge Is now in England, ranfacking the church, Offending charity. If but twelve French Were there in arms, they would be as a call To train ten thousand English to their fide; Or, as a little fnow, tumbled about, Anon becomes a mountain. Noble Dauphin; Go with me to the King: 'tis wonderful What may be wrought out of their discontent. Now that their fouls are top-full of offence, For England go; I will whet on the King.

Lewis. Strong reafon makes strong actions: let us go; If you fay ay, the King will not fay no.

[Exeunt.

ACT

TEAT me these irons hot, and, look, thou ftand
Within the arras; when I ftrike my foot

H

Upon the bofom of the ground, rush forth;
And bind the boy, which you fhall find with me,
Faft to the chair: be heedful; hence, and watch.
Exe. I hope, your warrant will bear out the deed.
Hub. Uncleanly fcruples! fear not you; look to't.-
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 fo great a title
To be more prince) as may be. You are fad.
Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.

Arth. Mercy on me!

Methinks, no body fhould be fad but I;
Yet I remember when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as fad as night,
Only for wantonnefs. By my christendom,
So were I out of prison, and kept sheep,
I should be merry as the day is long.
And fo I would be here, but that, I doubt,
My uncle practifes more harm to me.
He is afraid of me, and I of him.
Is it my fault, that I was Geffrey's fon?
Indeed, it is not; and I would to heav'n,

I were your fon, fo you would love me, Hubert.

Hub.

Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate He will awake my mercy, which lyes dead; Therefore I will be fudden, and dispatch..

[Afide. Art. Are you fick, Hubert? you look pale to day; In footh, I wou'd, you were a little fick ;

That I might fit all night and watch with you.

Alas, I love

you more

than do
me.
you

Hub. His words do take poffeffion of my bofom. Read here, young Arthur

How now, foolish rheum,

Turning dif-piteous torture out of door!
I must be brief, left refolution drop

[Shewing a paper.

Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears.
Can you not read it? is it not fair writ?

Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for fo foul effect.
Muft you with irons burn out both mine eyes?
Hub. Young boy, I must.

Arth. And will you?

Hub. And I will.

[Afide.

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 I did never ask it you again;

your

head;

And with my hand at midnight held
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon chear'd up the heavy time,

Saying, what lack you? and where lyes your grief?
Or what good love may I perform for you?
Many a poor man's fon would have lain still,
And ne'er have fpoke a loving word to you;
fick fervice had a prince.
But at your
you
Nay, you may think, my love was crafty love,
And call it cunning. Do, an if will:

you

If heav'n be pleas'd that you must use me ill,

Why then, you must- Will you put out mine eyes? Thefe eyes, that never did, nor never shall,

So much as frown on you.

Hub. I've fworn to do it;

And with hot irons must I burn them out.

Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it.

The

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 rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Are you more stubborn-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 ftand ftone-still.

For heav'n's fake, Hubert, let me not be bound.
Nay, hear me, Hubert, drive these men away,
And I will fit as quiet as a lamb.

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

Thruft but thefe 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 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 heav'n! that there were but a moth in yours,

A grain, a duft, a gnat, a wandring hair,

Any annoyance in that precious fense:

Then, feeling what small things are boift'rous there,

Your vile intent must 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