HUBERT

Frolic young Prince, though I your keeper be, Yet shall your keeper live at your command. My Master's. I have showed you what warrant I have for this attempt; I perceive by your heavy countenan ces, you had rather be otherwise employed, and for my own partly, I would the King had made choice of some other execu tioner: only this is my comfort, that a King commands, whose precepts neglected or omitted, threatens torture for the default. Therefore in brief, leave me, and be ready to attend the adventure: stay within that entry, and when you hear me cry, God save the King, issue suddenly forth, lay hands on Arthur, set him in this chair, wherein (once fast bound) leave him with me to finish the rest. My Lord, will it please your Honour to take the benefit of the fair evening? I know not Prince, but as I guess not long. God send you freedom, and God save the King, They issue forth. So sirs, depart, and leave the rest for me. Patience young Lord, and listen words of woe, Harmful and harsh, hells horror to be herd: A dismal tale fit for a furies tongue. I faint to tell, deep sorrow is the found. No news of death, but tidings of more hate, A wrathful doom, and most unlucky fate: Death's dish were dainty at so fell a feast, Be deaf, hear not, its hell to tell the rest. I will not chant such dolour with my tongue, Yet must I act the outrage with my hand. My heart my head, and all my powers beside, To aid the office have at once divide. Peruse this letter, lines of Triple woe, Read over my charge, and pardon when you know. My Lord, a subject dwelling in the land Is tied to execute the Kings command. But me Essence hath ordained a law, A death for gilded, to keep the world in awe. But that appeal my Lord concerns not me. I, if my Sovereign would remit his quarrel. Then be the blame to whom it does belong. Why then no execution can be lawful, If Judges dooms must be reputed doubtful. My Lord, my Lord, this long expostulation, Heaps up more grief, than promise of redress; For this I know, and so resolved I end, That subjects lives on Kings commands depend. I must not reason why he is your foe, But do his charge since he commands it so. I faint, I fear, my conscience bids desist: Faint did I say, fear was it that I nam? My King commands, that warrant sets me free: But God forbids, and he commandeth Kings, That great Commander counterchecks my charge, He stays my hand, he makes soft my heart, Go cursed tools, your office is exempt, Cheer Thee young Lord, thou shalt not loo e and eye, Though I should purchase it with lose of life. I'll to the King, and say his willis done, And of the langor tell him thou art dead, Go in with me, for Hubert was not born To blind those lamps that Nature pollisht so, According to your Highness strict command Young Arthurs eyes are blinded and extinct. Nor see nor feel, for of the extreme pain, Within one hour gave he up the Ghost. He is my Lord. Why heres my Lord your Highness hand & scale, Charging on lives regard to do the deed. My Lord attend the happy tale I tell, For heavens health send Satan packing hence That instigates your Highness to despair. If Arthurs death be dismal to be herd, Bandy the news for rumours of untruth: He lives my Lord the sweetest youth alive, In health, with eysight, not a hair amiss. This heart took vigor from this forward hand, Making it weak to execute your charge.