HUBERT

Heralds, from off our towers we might behold From first to last, the onset and retire Of both your Armies, whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censured: Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answered blows: Strength matched with strength, and power confronted power, Both are alike, and both alike we Like: One must prove greatest. While they weigh so even, We hold our Town for neither: yet for both. The king of England, when we know the king. Hear us great kings, vouchsafe awhile to stay And I shall show you peace, and fair-faced league: Win you this City without stroke, or wound, Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, That here come sacrifices for the field. Persever not, but hear me mighty kings. That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch Is near to England, look upon the years Of Lews the Dolphin, and that lovely maid. If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, Where should he find it fairer, the in Blanch: If zealous love should go in search of virtue, Where should he find I purer then in Blanch? If love ambitious, sought a match of birth, Whose veins bound richer blood then Lady Blanch? Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, Is the young Dolphin every way complete, If not complete of, say he is not she, And she again wants nothing, to name want, If want it be not, that she is not he: He is the half-part oh a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she, And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fullness of perfection lies in him. Oh two such silver currents when they join Do glorify the banks that bound them in: And two such shores, to two such streams made one, Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, To these two Princes, if you marry them: This Union shall do more then battery can To our fast closed gates: for at this match, With swifter spleen then powder can enforce The mouth of passage shall we sling wide open, And give you entrance: but without this match, The sea enraged is not half so deaf, Lyons more confident, Mountains and rocks More free from motion, no not death himself In mortal fury half so peremptory, As we to keep this City. Why answer not the double Majesties, This friendly treaty of our threatened Town. I am much bounden to your Majesty. So well, that what you bid me undertake, Though that my death were adjunct to my Act, By heaven I would do it. And I'll keep him so, That he shall not offend your Majesty. My Lord. He shall not live. Heat me these Irons hight, and look thou 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. Uncleanly scruples fear not you: look too't. Young Lad come forth; I have to say with you. Good morrow; little Prince. Indeed I have been merrier. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate He will awake my mercy, which lies dead: Therefore I will be sudden, and dispatch. His words do take possession of my bosom. Read here young Arthur. How now foolish rheum? Turning dispitious torture out of door? I must be brief, least resolution drop Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears. Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ? Young Boy, I must. And I will. I have sworn to do it: And with hight Irons must I burn them out. Come forth: Do as I bid you do. Give me the Iron I say, and bind him here. Go stand within: let me alone with him. Come (Boy) prepare your self. None, but to loose your eyes. Is this your promise? Go too, hold your tongue I can heat it, Boy. But with my breath I can revive it Boy. 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. 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. Silence, no more; go closely in with me, Much danger do I undergo for thee. My Lord, they say five Moons were seen to night: Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about The other four, in wondrous motion. Old men, and Beldames, in the streets Do prophesy upon it dangerously: Young Arthurs death is common in their mouths, And when they talk of him, they shake their heads, And whisper one another in the ear. And he that speaks, does gripe the hearers wrist, While he that hears, makes fearful Actium With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. I saw a Smith stand with his hammer (thus) The while his Iron did on the Anvil cool, With open mouth swallowing a Tailors news, Who with his Sheeres, and Measure in his hand, Standing on slippers, which his nimble haste Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet, Told of a many thousand warlike French, That were embattled, and ranked in Kenned. Another lean, unwashed Artificer, Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthurs death. Here is your hand and Seal for what I did. My Lord. Arm you against your other enemies: I'll make a peace between your soul, and you. Young Arthur is alive: This hand of mine Is yet a maiden, and and innocent hand. Not painted with the Crimson spots of blood, Within this bosom, never entered yet The dreadful motion of a murderous thought, And you have slandered Nature in my form, Which howsoever rude exteriorly, Is yet the cover of a fairer mind, Then to be butcher of and innocent child. Lords, I am hight with haste, in seeking you, Arthur does live, the king hath sent for you. Stand back Lord Salsbury, stand back I say. By heaven, I think my sword's as sharp as yours. I would not have you (Lord) forget your self, Nor tempt the danger of my true defence; Least I, by marking of your rage, forget your Worth, your Greatness, and Nobility. Not for my life: But yet I dare defend My innocent life against and Emperor. Do not prove me so: Yet I am none. Whose tongue so ere speaks false, Not truly speaks: who speaks not truly, Lies. Lord Bigot, I am none. It's not and hour since I left him well: I honoured him, I loved him, and will weep My date of life out, for his sweet lives lose. Upon my soul. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought, Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Let hell want pains enough to torture me: I left him well. Badly I fear; how fares your Majesty? Whose there? Speak hoa, speak quickly, or I shoot. Of the partly of England. What's that to thee? Why may not I demand of thine affairs, As well as thou of mine? Thou hast a perfect thought: I will upon all hazards well believe Thou art my friend, that knowest my tongue so well: Who art thou? Unkind remembrance: thou, & endless night, Have done me shame: Brave Soldier, pardon me, That any accent breaking from thy tongue, Should escape the true acquaintance of mine ear. Why here walk I, in the black brow of night To find you out. Oh my sweet sir, news fitting to the night, Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible. The King I fear is poisoned by a Monk, I left him almost speechless, and broke out To acquaint you with this evil, that you might The better arm you to the sudden time, Then if you had at leisure known of this. A Monk I tell you, a resolved villain Whose Bowels suddenly burst out: The King Yet speaks, and peradventure may recover. Why know you not? The Lords are all come back, And brought Prince Henry in their company, At whose request the king hath pardoned them, And they are all about his Majesty. Do but hear me sir. I am no villain. No had (my Lord?) why, did you not provoke me?