No, no; when fortune means to men most good, Thy foot to England's throne: and therefore mark.. 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. John lays you plots; the times confpire with you; R Abor Abortives, and prefages, tongues of heav'n 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 H Upon the bofom of the ground, rush forth; Arth. Good morrow, Hubert. Arth. As little prince (having fo great a title Arth. Mercy on me! Methinks, no body fhould be fad but I; 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 Hub. His words do take poffeffion of my bofom. Read here, young Arthur How now, foolish rheum, Turning dif-piteous torture out of door! [Shewing a paper. Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears. Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for fo foul effect. 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 Saying, what lack you? and where lyes your grief? 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, Even in the matter of mine innocence : 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. I will not ftir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Thruft but thefe men away, and I'll forgive you, Hub. Go, ftand within; let me alone with him. 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 |