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King John
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  • ACT IV SCENE I

    
     Dramatis Personae 
     Act I   Scene I 
      
     Act III Scene I
     Act III Scene II
     Act III Scene III
     Act III Scene IV
     Act IV  Scene I 
     Act IV  Scene II
    
     Act IV  Scene III 
     Act V   Scene I 
     Act V   Scene II 
     Act V   Scene III 
     Act V   Scene IV 
     Act V   Scene V
     Act V   Scene VI
     Act V   Scene VII
     Complete play
    


     Act IV 

    
    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
    	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.
    
    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
    	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:
    	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!
    	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:
    	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,
    	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,
    	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;
    	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.
    
    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,--no tongue but Hubert's.
    
    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.
    
    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;
    	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 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.
    
    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,
    	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 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
    	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.
    
    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.
    	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
    	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.
    
    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,
    	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
    
    
    

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