King John

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, 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 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 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 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.

Scene II

King John’s palace.

	Enter King John, Pembroke, Salisbury, and other Lords.
King John	Here once again we sit, once again crown’d, And looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
Pembroke	This “once again,” but that your highness pleased, Was once superfluous: you were crown’d before, And that high royalty was ne’er pluck’d off, The faiths of men ne’er stained with revolt; Fresh expectation troubled not the land With any long’d-for change or better state.
Salisbury	Therefore, to be possess’d with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
Pembroke	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.
Salisbury	In this the antique and well noted face Of plain old form is much disfigured; And, like a shifted wind unto a sail, It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about, Startles and frights consideration, Makes sound opinion sick and truth suspected, For putting on so new a fashion’d robe.
Pembroke	When workmen strive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness; And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse, As patches set upon a little breach Discredit more in hiding of the fault Than did the fault before it was so patch’d.
Salisbury	To this effect, before you were new crown’d, We breathed our counsel: but it pleased your highness To overbear it, and we are all well pleased, Since all and every part of what we would Doth make a stand at what your highness will.
King John	Some reasons of this double coronation I have possess’d you with and think them strong; And more, more strong, then lesser is my fear, I shall indue you with: meantime but ask What you would have reform’d that is not well, And well shall you perceive how willingly I will both hear and