| ACT IV SCENE I | A room in a castle. | |
| | Enter HUBERT and Executioners | |
| HUBERT | 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 | 5 |
| | Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch. | |
| First Executioner | I hope your warrant will bear out the deed. | |
| HUBERT | Uncleanly scruples! fear not you: look to't. | |
| | Exeunt Executioners | |
| | Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. | |
| | Enter ARTHUR | |
| ARTHUR | Good morrow, Hubert. | 10 |
| HUBERT | Good morrow, little prince. | |
| ARTHUR | As little prince, having so great a title | |
| | To be more prince, as may be. You are sad. | |
| HUBERT | Indeed, I have been merrier. | |
| ARTHUR | Mercy on me! | 15 |
| | Methinks no body 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, | 20 |
| | 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? | 25 |
| | No, indeed, is't not; and I would to heaven | |
| | I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert. | |
| HUBERT | Aside | |
| | He will awake my mercy which lies dead: | |
| | Therefore I will be sudden and dispatch. | |
| ARTHUR | Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day: | 30 |
| | In sooth, I would you were a little sick, | |
| | That I might sit all night and watch with you: | |
| | I warrant I love you more than you do me. | |
| HUBERT | Aside | |
| | Read here, young Arthur. | |
| | Showing a paper | |
| | Aside | |
| | How now, foolish rheum! | 35 |
| | Turning dispiteous torture out of door! | |
| | I must be brief, lest resolution drop | |
| | Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears. | |
| | Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ? | |
| ARTHUR | Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: | 40 |
| | Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? | |
| HUBERT | Young boy, I must. | |
| ARTHUR | And will you? | |
| HUBERT | And I will. | |
| ARTHUR | Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, | 45 |
| | I knit my handercher 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, | 50 |
| | 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 lien still | |
| | And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you; | 55 |
| | But you at your sick service had a prince. | |
| | Nay, you may think my love was crafty love | |
| | And call it cunning: do, an if you will: | |
| | If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, | |
| | Why then you must. Will you put out mine eyes? | 60 |
| | These eyes that never did nor never shall | |
| | So much as frown on you. | |
| HUBERT | I have sworn to do it; | |
| | And with hot irons must I burn them out. | |
| ARTHUR | Ah, none but in this iron age would do it! | 65 |
| | The iron of itself, though heat red-hot, | |
| | Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears | |
| | And quench his fiery indignation | |
| | Even in the matter of mine innocence; | |
| | Nay, after that, consume away in rust | 70 |
| | But for containing fire to harm mine eye. | |
| | Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron? | |
| | An 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. | 75 |
| HUBERT | Come forth. | |
| | Stamps | |
| | Re-enter Executioners, with a cord, irons, &c. | |
| | Do as I bid you do. | |
| ARTHUR | O, 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. | 80 |
| ARTHUR | Alas, what need you be so boisterous-rough? | |
| | I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still. | |
| | For heaven sake, Hubert, let me not be bound! | |
| | Nay, hear me, Hubert, drive these men away, | |
| |
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; | 85 |
| | 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. | |
| HUBERT | Go, stand within; let me alone with him. | 90 |
| First Executioner | I am best pleased to be from such a deed. | |
| | Exeunt Executioners | |
| 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. | 95 |
| HUBERT | Come, boy, prepare yourself. | |
| ARTHUR | Is there no remedy? | |
| HUBERT | None, but to lose your eyes. | |
| ARTHUR | O heaven, that there were but a mote in yours, | |
| | A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair, | 100 |
| | 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 tongues | 105 |
| | 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! | 110 |
| | Lo, by my truth, the instrument is cold | |
| | And would not harm me. | |
| HUBERT | I can heat it, boy. | |
| ARTHUR | No, in good sooth: the fire is dead with grief, | |
| | Being create for comfort, to be used | 115 |
| | In undeserved extremes: see else yourself; | |
| | There is no malice in this burning coal; | |
| | The breath of heaven has blown his spirit out | |
| | And strew'd repentent ashes on his head. | |
| HUBERT | But with my breath I can revive it, boy. | 120 |
| ARTHUR | An 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 doth tarre him on. | 125 |
| | 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 eye | 130 |
| | For all the treasure that thine uncle owes: | |
| | Yet am I sworn and I did purpose, boy, | |
| | With this same very iron to burn them out. | |
| ARTHUR | O, now you look like Hubert! all this while | |
| | You were disguised. | 135 |
| HUBERT | Peace; no more. Adieu. | |
| | 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, | 140 |
| | 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. | |
| | Exeunt | |
