Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ake, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, And with my hand at midnight held your head; Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your grief? Hub. you put out mine eyes? nor never shall, 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. [Stamps. Re-enter Attendants, with Cord, 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 boist'rousrough? I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still. For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound! I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with him. 1 Attend. I am best pleas'd 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:--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 heaven!-that there were but a mote in yours, A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand'ring hair, Any annoyance in that precious sense! Then, feeling what small things are boist'rous 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: Hub. I can heat it, boy. Arth. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with grief, Being create for comfort, to be us'd In undeserv'd extremes: See else yourself; Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends, Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses. Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes For all the treasure that thine uncle owes: Arth. O, now you look like Hubert! all this while You were disguised. Hub. 3 Peace: no more. Adieu; tarre him on.] i. e. stimulate, set him on. Supposed to be derived from raparia, excito. Your uncle must not know but you are dead: Arth. The same. SCENE II. [Exeunt.. A Room of State in the Palace. Enter King JOHN, crowned; PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and other Lords. The King takes his State. K. John. Here once again we sit, once again crown'd, And look'd upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes. Was once superfluous: you were crown'd before, Sal. Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, 5 To guard a title that was rich before, 4- Go closely in with me.] i. c. secretly, privately. To guaidi. c. to fringe, o1 lace. To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Pem. But that your royal pleasure must be done, This act is as an ancient tale new told; And, in the last repeating, troublesome, Being urged at a time unseasonable. Sal. In this, the antique and well-noted face It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about; Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected, Pem. When workmen strive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness:" Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse; Than did the fault before it was so patch'd. Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crown'd, We breath'd our counsel: but it pleas'd your high ness To overbear it; and we are all well pleas'd; K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation I will both hear and grant you your requests. 6 They do confound their skill in covetousness:] i. e. not by their avarice, but in an eager emulation, an intense desire of excelling. |