If that

young Arthur be not gone already,

Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts
Of all his people shall revolt from him,
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change;
And pick strong matter of revolt, and wrath,
Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John.
Methinks I see this hurly1 all on foot;
And, O, what better matter breeds for you,
Than I have named!-The bastard Faulconbridge
Is now in England, ransacking the church,
Offending charity. If but a dozen French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call 2
To train ten thousand English to their side;
Or, as a little snow, tumbled about,

Anon becomes a mountain. O, noble dauphin,
Go with me to the king. 'Tis wonderful,
What may be wrought out of their discontent.
Now that their souls are topfull of offence,
For England go; I will whet on the king.

3

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

1 Hurly is tumult.

2 The image is taken from the manner in which birds are sometimes caught; one being placed for the purpose of drawing others to the net by his note or call.

3 The first folio reads strange; the second folio strong.

There is no circumstance, either in the original play or in this of

Within the arras.1 When I strike

Upon the bosom of

When I strike my foot the ground, rush forth, which you shall find with me, Be heedful: hence, and watch. 1 Atten. I hope your warrant will bear out the

And bind the boy,
Fast to the chair.

deed.

Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you; look

to't.

[Exeunt Attendants. Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.

Enter ARTHUR.

Good morrow, little prince.

Arth. Good morrow, Hubert.
Hub.
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,2
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.

Shakspeare, to point out the particular castle in which Arthur is supposed to be confined. The castle of Northampton has been mentioned, merely because, in the first act, king John seems to have been in that town. It has already been stated that Arthur was in fact confined at Falaise, and afterwards at Rouen, where he was put to death.

1 Tapestry.

2 i. e. by my baptism. The use of this word for christening or baptism is not peculiar to Shakspeare; it was common in his time. Hearne has published a Prone from a MS. of Henry the Seventh's time, in the glossary to Robert of Gloucester, in a note on the word midewinter, by which it appears that it was the ancient orthography. "The childer ryzt schape & chrystyndome." It is also used by Lyly, Fanshaw, Harington, and Fairfaxe.

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 to-day:
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.
Hub. His words do take possession of
Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How
now, foolish rheum!

Turning dispiteous torture out of door!
I must be brief, lest resolution drop

my

bosom.

[Aside.

Out at mine eyes, in tender, womanish tears
Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?
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 ache,

I knit my handkerchief 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,
Still and anon cheered 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 lain still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
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?
These eyes, that never did, nor never shall,

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,
And quench his fiery indignation

Even in the matter of mine innocence;
Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered 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 Hu

bert's.

Hub. Come forth.

[Stamps.

Re-enter Attendants, with cords, irons, &c.

Do as I bid you do.

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 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 iron angerly:

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

Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with him. 1 Atten. I am best pleased to be from such a deed. [Exeunt Attendants. Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my friend; He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart.

1 The participle heat, though now obsolete, was in use in Shakspeare's time. "He commanded that they should heat the furnace one seven times more than it was wont to be heat.”—Daniel iii. 19.

Let him come back, that his compassion may

Give life to yours.
Hub.

Arth. Is there no remedy?

Hub.

Come, boy, prepare yourself.

None, but to lose your eyes.

Arth. O Heaven!-that there were but a mote in

yours,

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.

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 used

In undeserved extremes.1

See else yourself;

There is no malice in this burning coal;

The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,
And strewed repentant ashes on his head.

Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
Arth. 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 compelled to fight,
Snatch at his master that doth tarre 2 him on.
All things, that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office; only you do lack

1 "The fire being created, not to hurt, but to comfort, is dead with grief for finding itself used in acts of cruelty, which, being innocent, I have not deserved."