Arthur. 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,
And quench its fiery indignation,

Even in the matter of mine innocence :

Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eyes.
Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron?
And if an angel should have come to me,
And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,
I would not have believed no1 tongue but Hubert's.
Hubert. Come forth.

Reënter Attendants, with cord, irons, &c.

Do as I bid you do.

[Stamps

Arthur. Oh, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out, Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.

Hubert. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.
Arthur. Alas! what need you be so boisterous-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;

I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the irons angerly;

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

Hubert. Go, stand within; let me alone with him.
1 Atten. I am best pleased to be from such a deed.

[Attendants retire.

Arthur. 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.

Hubert.

Arthur. Is there no remedy?

Come, boy, prepare yourself.

Hubert. None, but to lose your eyes.

Arthur. O heaven! that there were but a mote in

yours,

'The two negatives in this line are a poetic license.

A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,
Any annoyance in that precious sense!

Then feeling what small things are boisterous there,
Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.

Hubert. Is this your promise? Go to; hold your tongue.
Arthur. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongucs
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; oh, 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.

Arthur. No, in good sooth, the fire is dead with grief,— Being create' for comfort—to be used

In undeserved extremes: see else yourself:

There is no malice in this burning coal;

The breath of heaven hath blown its spirit out,
And strew'd repentant ashes on his head.

Hubert. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
Arthur. And if you do, you will but make it blush,
And glow with shame 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 master that does 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 extends,—
Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses.

Hubert. Well, see to live: I will not touch thine eyes
For all the treasure that thine uncle owes;1

Yet I am sworn, and I did purpose, boy,

With this same věry iron to burn them out.

Arthur. Oh, now you look like Hubert! all this while

'Cre åte', poetical license for created.- Tårre, to excite; to set on.'Creature (kret' yer), any thing created; hence Shakspeare here calls fire and iron creatures.- Owes, owns.

Peace: no more.

Adieu!

You were disguised.
Hubert.
Your uncle must not know but you are dead:
I'll fill these doggèd' spies with false reports.
And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend thee.

Arthur. O heaven!-I thank

you, Hubert.

Hubert. Silence: no more. Go closely in with me: Much danger do I undergo for thee.

150. FROM THE TRAGEDY OF KING JOHN-CONCLUDED [Prince Arthur is supposed to have been assassinated.]

Hubert. My lord, they say five moons were seen to-night: Four fixed; and the fifth did whirl about

The other four, in wondrous motion.

K. John. Five moons?

Hubert.

Old men, and beldams, in the streets

Do prophesy upon it dangerously:

Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths:
And when they talk of him, they shake their heads,
And whisper one another in the ear;

And he that speaks doth gripe the hearer's wrist,
While he that hears makes fearful action,
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes.
I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news;
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,
Standing on slippers (which his nimble haste
Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet),
Told of many thousand warlike French,
That were embattled and rank'd in Kent:
Another lean, unwash'd artif'icer3

Dog' ged, sullen; sour; severe.—' Bål' dåm, old or scolding woman - Ar tlf' i cer, a mechanic; a contriver.

Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.

K. John. Why seek'st thou to possess me with these fears? Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death?

Thy hand hath murder'd him : I had a mighty cause

To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him.

Hubert. Had none, my lord! Why, did not you provoke me? K. John It is the curse of kings to be attended By slaves, that take their humors for a warrant To break within the bloody house of life:

And, on the winking of authority,

To understand a law; to know the meaning

Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns

More upon humor than advised respect.

Hubert. Here is your hand and seal for what I did.

K. John. Oh, when the last account 'twixt heaven and earth Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal

Witness against us to damnation!1

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds
Makes deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by,

A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind:
But, taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect,
Finding thee fit for bloody villainy,
Apt, liable to be employed in danger,

I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death,
And thou, to be endeared to a king,

Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
Hubert. My lord-

K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or made a pause, When I spake darkly what I purposed;

Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,

As bid me tell my tale in ex'press words;

Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,
And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me:
But thou didst understand me by my signs,

And didst in signs again parley with sin;

1 Dåm nå' tion, condemnation.

Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent,
And, consequently, thy rude hand to act

The deed, which both our tongues held vile to name.
Out of my sight, and never see me more!

My nobles leave me; and my state is braved,
Ever at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers:
Nay, in the body of this fleshly land,'

This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Hostility and civil tumult reigns.

Between my conscience and my cousin's death.
Hubert. Arm you against your other enemies;
I'll make a peace between your soul and you.
Young Arthur is alive. This hand of mine
Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand,
Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
Within this bosom never enter'd yet

The dreadful motion of a murderous thought,
And you have slander'd nature in my form;
Which, howsoever rude exteriorly,

Is yet the cover of a fairer mind

Than to be butcher of an innocent child.

K. John. Doth Arthur live? Oh, haste thee to the peers,
Throw this report on their incensèd rage,
And make them tame to their obedience!

Forgive the comment that my passion made
Upon thy features; for my rage was blind,
And foul imaginary eyes of blood
Presented thee more hideous than thou art.
Oh, answer not; but to my closet bring
The angry lords, with all expedient haste:
I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast.

SHAKSPEARE.

151. THE HISTORY OF PRINCE ARTHUR.

AT two-and-thirty years of age, in the year 1200, John be

came king of England. His pretty little nephew, Arthur,

"Fleshly land," "kingdom," "confine of blood and breath".--these expressions mean his own body, or person.- Pretty (prit' ty).