And kifs the lips of unacquainted change; Lewis. Strong reafon makes strong actions: let us go; If you fay ay, the King will not fay no. АСТ [Exeunt. A C T IV. SCENE I. Changes to ENGLAND. A PRISON. Enter Hubert and Executioners. HUBERT. HEAT me thefe irons hot, and, look, thou stand Within the arras; when I ftrike my foot Upon the bofom of the ground, rush forth; Hub. Hub. Uncleanly fcruples! fear not you; look to't.Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. Enter Arthur. Arth. Good morrow, Hubert. Hub. Good morrow, little prince. Arth. As little prince (having fo great a title Methinks, no body should be fad but I; Is it my fault, that I was Geffrey's fon? T were your fon, fo you would love me, Hubert. Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate He will awake my mercy, which lyes dead; Therefore I will be fudden, and dispatch. [Afide. Arth. Are you fick, Hubert? you look pale to day; In footh, I wou'd, you were a little fick ; Hub. His words do take poffeffion of my bosom. Read here, young Arthur How now, foolish rheum, [Shewing a paper. [Afide. Turning dif-piteous (a) nature out of door! I must be brief, left refolution drop Qut at mine eyes in tender womanish tears. [(a) nature. Oxford Editor -Vulg. torture.] Arth. Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for fo foul effect. Muft you with irons burn out both mine eyes? Hub. Young boy, I must. 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; And with my hand at midnight held your head; Thefe eyes, that never did, nor never fhall, Hub. I've fworn to do it; And with hot irons muft I burn them out. Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it. The iron of itself, tho' heat red-hot, Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears, And quench its fiery indignation, Even in the matter of mine innocence: Nay, after that, confume away in ruft, Are you more ftubborn-hard, than hammer'd iron? I I would not have believ'd him: no tongue, but Hubert's. Hub. Come forth; do, as I bid you. [Stamps, and the men enter. For heav'n's fake, Hubert, let me not be bound. I will not ftir, nor wince, nor fpeak a word, Thruft but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Hub. Go, ftand within; let me alone with him. 1 I would not have believed a tongue BUT HUBERT'S.] Thus Mr. Pope found the line in the old editions. According to this reading it is fuppofed that Hubert had told him, he would not put out his eyes; for the angel who fays he would, is brought in as contradicting Hubert. Mr. Theobald, by what authority I don't know, reads, I would not have believ'd him: no tongue, but Hubert's. which is fpoiling the meafure, without much mending the Senfe. Shakespear, I am perfuaded, wrote, I would not have believed a tongue 'BATE HUBERT; i, e. abate, difparage. The blunder feems to have arisen thus, bate fignifies except, faving; fo the tranfcribers, taking it in this fenfe, fubftituted the more ufual word but in its place. My alteration greatly improves the fenfe, as implying a tenderness of affection for Hubert; the common reading, only an opinion of Hu bert's veracity; whereas the point here was to win upon Hubert's paffions which could not be better done than by fhewing affection towards him. Give life to yours.... Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself. Hub. None, but to lofe your eyes. Arth. O heav'n! that there were but a moth in yours, A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandring hair, Any annoyance in that precious sense: Then, feeling what fmall thngs are boift'rous there, Your vile intent muft needs feem horrible. Hub. Is this your promife? go to, hold your tongue. Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues Muft 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 fpare mine eyes ! Though to no ufe, but ftill to look on you. Lo, by my troth, the inftrument is cold, And would not harm me. Hub. I can heat it, boy. Arth. No, in good footh, the fire is dead with grief, Being create for comfort, to be us'd In undeferv'd extreams; fee elfe yourself, There is no malice in this burning coal; Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. That mercy which fierce fire and iron extend, Hub. Well, fee to live; I will not touch thine eye, For |