15. The room being cleared, the Duke summoned the host, who, while standing in trembling dismay before his incensed1 lord, was forced to listen to words which were, it would seem, neither soft as oil, nor sweet as honey; for after the Duke had mounted his fiery charger, he called back, 'Be sure and write my words behind your ear, so that the hens can't scratch them out;' and mine host pulled a face dismally long. But the best result of all was that the ale-house meetings on Sunday were put an end to; and though the peasants went to church at first for fear of the Duke, many went afterwards from a love of God's Word, and that village became one of the most orderly and church-going in the whole duchy. When Duke Eric was told this, he laughed heartily and said: 'There are many cures for disorderly doings, but "Pass it on" has proved not the least effectual of them.'

SUNDAY.

SUNDAYS observe. Think, when the bells do chime,
'Tis angels' music: therefore come not late:
God then deals blessings: if a king did so,
Who would not haste, nay give, to see the show?

1 Incensed, angry.

HERBERT.

HUBERT AND ARTHUR.

K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle
Hubert,

O, I love thee well;

And by my troth, I think thou lov'st me well.
Hub. So well, that what you bid me under-
take,

Though that my death were adjunct to my act,1
By heaven, I would do it.

K. John.

wouldst ?

Do not I know thou

Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,

He is a very serpent in my way;

10. And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread

He lies before me: Dost thou understand me?
Thou art his keeper.

Hub.

And I'll keep him so,

I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee.
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:
Remember!

'Adjunct to my act, altho' my life were dependent upon it.

SCENE.-Northampton. A Room in the Castle. Enter HUBERT and Two Attendants; afterwards ARTHUR.

Hub. Heat me these irons hot; and look thou stand

Within the arras: when I strike my foot 20. 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.
Ist Attend. I hope your warrant will bear out
the deed.

to 't.

Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you: look [Exeunt Attendants. 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 so great a title To be more prince) as may be.—You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.

Arth.

Mercy on me!

30. Methinks nobody 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,

1

2

Arras, tapestry hangings of rooms. A passage was left between

them and the wall.

2 Wantonness, playfulness, sportiveness, not used here in a bad

sense.

So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
I should be 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 ?
40. No, indeed, is't not; and I would to heaven
I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate1
He will awake my mercy, which lies dead :
Therefore I will be sudden, and despatch.

Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day :

2

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.

Hub. His words do take possession of my
bosom.—

50. Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How now, foolish rheum !3

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 ?

[Aside.

Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect:
Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
Hub. Young boy, I must.
Arth.

'Prate, prattle, childish talk.

2 Sooth,

4

truth.

Rheum, tears.

And will you?

Turning, &c., relieving inward sorrow by the relief of tears.

Hub.

And I will.

Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,

I knit my hand-kercher about your brows, 60. (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 lain still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you :
But you at your sick service had a prince.
70. 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?

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 heat1 red-hot,

Approaching near these eyes, would drink my

tears,

80. And quench his fiery indignation,

Even in the matter of mine innocence;

Nay, after that consume away in rust,

v. & VI.

1 Heat, old participle for heated.

K