Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, [Tearing off her head-dress. When there is such disorder in my wit. O lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son ! My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure! [Exit. K. Phil. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. [Ex. Lew. There's nothing in this world, can make me joy : Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man ;7 And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, Even in the instant of repair and health, Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. [5] This is a sentiment which great sorrow always dictates. Whoever cannot help himself casts his eyes on others for assistance, and often mistakes their inability for coldness. JOHNSON. [6] The young prince feeis his defeat with more sensibility than his father. Shame operates most strongly in the earlier ye rs; and when can disgrace be 1 ss welcome than when a man is going to his bride? JOHNS. [7] Our author here, and in another play, seems to have had the goth Psalm in his thoughts. For when thou art angry, all our days are gone, we bring our years to an end, as it were a tale that is told." STEEV. 5* VOL. IV. Thy foot to England's throne; and, therefore, mark. That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins, That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall; Lew. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall? No scape of nature, no distemper'd day, Lew. May be, he will not touch young Arthur's life, But hold himself safe in his prisonment. Pand. O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach, 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, [9] The author very finely calls a monstrous birth, an escape of nature, as if it were produced while she was busy elsewhere, or intent upon sonie other thing. WARE. Than I have nam'd !-The bastard Faulconbridge I Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin, What may be wrought out of their discontent : Lew. Strong reasons make strong actions: Let us go; If you say, ay, the king will not say, no. ACT IV. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-Northampton. A Room in the Castle. Enter HuBERT and Two Attendants. Hubert. HEAT me these irons hot; and, look thou stand Enter ARTHUR. Arth. Good morrow, Hubert. Hub. Good morrow, little prince. 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, no body should be sad but I: [1] Bacon, in his History of Henry VII. speaking of Simnel's march, observes that their snow-ball did not gather as it went." JOHNS. I should be as merry as the day is long; Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son? [Aside. Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day : In sooth, I would you were a little sick; Hub. His words do take possession of my bosom. Read here, young Arthur [Showing a 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: [Aside. Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? Arth. And will you? Hub. And I will. Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ake, 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 cheer'd up the heavy time; Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your grief? 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,3 Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears, Even in the matter of mine innocence : Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron? And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes, [Stamps. [Re-enter Attendants, with cord, irons, &c. 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'rous-rough? 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. He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart : Let him come back, that his compassion may Give life to your's. 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 boisterous there, [3] 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 heat."" Dan. iii. |