Characters of Shakespeare's Plays eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 337 pages of information about Characters of Shakespeare's Plays.

Characters of Shakespeare's Plays eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 337 pages of information about Characters of Shakespeare's Plays.

   Enter Hubert and Executioner

   Hubert.  Heat me these irons hot, and look you stand
     Within the arras; when I strike my foot
     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.

   Executioner.  I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.

   Hubert.  Uncleanly scruples! fear not you; look to’t.—­
     Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.

   Enter Arthur

   Arthur.  Good morrow, Hubert.

   Hubert.  Morrow, little Prince.

   Arthur.  As little prince (having so great a title
     To be more prince) as may be.  You are sad.

   Hubert.  Indeed I have been merrier.

   Arthur.  Mercy on me! 
     Methinks no body 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,
     So were I 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 Geoffery’s son? 
     Indeed it is not, and I would to heav’n
     I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.

   Hubert.  If I talk to him, with his innocent prate
     He will awake my mercy, which lies dead;
     Therefore I will be sudden, and dispatch. [Aside.]

   Arthur.  Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day? 
     In sooth, I would you were a little sick,
     That I might sit all night and watch with you. 
     Alas, I love you more than you do me.

   Hubert.  His words do take possession of my bosom. 
     Read here, young Arthur—­[Showing a paper.]
     How now, foolish rheum, [Aside.]
     Turning dis-piteous 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?

   Arthur.  Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect. 
     Must you with irons burn out both mine eyes?

   Hubert.  Young boy, I must.

   Arthur.  And will you?

   Hubert.  And I will.

   Arthur.  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;
     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

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Characters of Shakespeare's Plays from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.