Arth. Mercy on me! Methinks, no body should be sad but I : Is it my fault that I was Geoffrey's son ? [Aside. I warrant, I love you more than you do me. Hub. His words do take possession of my bosom.Read here, young Arthur. [Showing the paper.] 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? Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? Arth. And will you? Hub. And I will. [Aside. 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; Still and anon cheered up the heavy time; Saying, What lack you? and, where lies your grief? Nay, you may think, my love was crafty love, If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, 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! Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears, Even in the matter of mine innocence: Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron? [Stamps. Re-enter Attendants, with cord, irons, &c. Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes are out, Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still. 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. Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself. Arth. Is there no remedy? Hub. None, but to lose your eyes. [Exeunt. Arth. O heaven!—that there were but a mote in yours, A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand'ring hair, Then, feeling what small things are boisterous there, 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: See else yourself; There is no malice in this burning coal; The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out, Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends, : Hub. Well, see to live: I will not touch thine eyes For all the treasure that thine uncle owns : Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy, With this same very iron to burn them out. Arth. O, now you look like Hubert! all this while You were disguised. Hub. Peace: no more, Adieu; Your uncle must not know but you are dead : Arth. O heaven !—I thank you, Hubert. [Exeunt. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed. I hope you act in this bloody business, by some higher authority than your own cruelty or selfishness. It is necessary that poor men in the service of arbitrary princes, should act their wicked wills. If you do as you are commanded, you are not so guilty as if you devised of your own heart such horrible deeds; but if you do this without some such justification—dread the punishment due to your cruelty. All this is implied in this passage. Heat.—Heated is the modern participle. "The participle heat, though now obsolete, was in use in our author's time. So in the sacred writings: 'He commanded that they should heat the furnace one seven times more than it was wont to be heal.' Dan. iii. 19." Tarre. To stimulate, to set on. Scene III. Arthur on the castle wall. Arth. The wall is high; and yet will I leap down : If I get down, and do not break my limbs, As good to die and go, as die and stay. Oh me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones :— Enter Pembroke, Salisbury, and Bigod. Sal. This is the prison: What is he lies here? [Seeing Arthur. Pem. O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty! The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge. Big. Or, when he doomed this beauty to a grave, Found it too precious princely for a grave. Sal. Sir Richard, what think you? Have you beheld, Or have you read, or heard? or could you think? Or do you almost think, although you see, That you do see? could thought, without this object, The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, Of murder's arms; this is the bloodiest shame, Pem. All murders past do stand excused in this.- The graceless action of a heavy hand, If that it be the work of any hand. Sal. If that it be the work of any hand?— Never to taste the pleasures of the world, By giving it the worship of revenge. Pem. Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy words. Revenge, to a certain extent, is the love of justice. It has been shown in the brief sketch which was given of the origin and principal objects of Chivalry, that its purpose was not only to defend innocence, but to punish those who should injure the weak and unprotected. The knights of that age not only made a vow to serve God and the interests of humanity, when they were initiated, but, on setting out upon a special enterprise, solemnly devoted themselves to the work before them.—In conformity to this practice, Salisbury kneels beside the dead body of Arthur, and vows never to take pleasure or rest till he has punished the wretches who wrought his death. HENRY IV. Henry, Duke of Lancaster, surnamed Bolingbroke, was son of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, third son of Edward III., king of England. Richard II. was the predecessor of Henry IV. Richard was the rightful king, but he had no talent for government, and during his reign all England was in a state of confusion and civil warfare. In consequence of his mis-government, |