And bind the boy which you shall find with me
Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch.

First Exec. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.

Hubert. Uncleanly1 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.

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!

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,
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. Hubert (aside). If I talk to him, with his innocent prate 2

1 unbecoming.

2 prattle.

He will awake my mercy which lies dead:
Therefore I will be sudden and despatch.

Arthur. 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.

Hubert (aside). His words do take possession of my bosom.

Read here, young Arthur. (Showing a paper.)

(Aside). How now, foolish rheum! 1

Turning dispiteous 2 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: 3 Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? Hubert. Young boy, I must.

Arthur.

Hubert.

And will you?

And I will.

Arthur. Have you the heart? When your head did

but ache,

I knit my handkercher 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 cheer'd up the heavy time,

1 tears.

2 pitiless.

3 import.

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;
But you at your sick service had a prince.
Nay, you may think my love was crafty love,
And call it cunning: do, and 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.

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!

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 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,

Hubert's.

Hubert. Come forth. (Stamps.)

no tongue but

Reënter Executioners, with a cord, irons, etc.

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. Arthur. Alas, what need you be so boisterousrough?

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;

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. First Exec. 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.

Hubert.

Come, boy, prepare yourself.

None, but to lose your eyes.

Arthur. Is there no remedy?
Hubert.

Arthur. 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.

Hubert. Is this your promise? go to, hold your tongue.

Arthur. 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.

Hubert.

I can heat it, boy.

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 his 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 doth tarre1 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 eye

1 urge.