<SPEECH 1><ACT 2><SCENE 1><11%>
<ARTHUR>	<12%>
	God shall forgive you Cœur-de-Lion's death
	The rather that you give his offspring life,
	Shadowing their right under your wings of war.
	I give you welcome with a powerless hand,
	But with a heart full of unstained love:
	Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 2><SCENE 1><17%>
<ARTHUR>	<17%>
	Good my mother, peace!
	I would that I were low laid in my grave:
	I am not worth this coil that's made for me.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 3><SCENE 1><35%>
<ARTHUR>	<35%>
	I do beseech you, madam, be content.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 3><SCENE 3><47%>
<ARTHUR>	<48%>
	O! this will make my mother die with grief.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 4><SCENE 1><57%>
<ARTHUR>	<58%>
	Good morrow, Hubert.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 4><SCENE 1><57%>
<ARTHUR>	<58%>
	As little prince,—having so great a title
	To be more prince,—as may be. You are sad.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 4><SCENE 1><57%>
<ARTHUR>	<58%>
	Mercy on me!
	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,
	So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
	I should be as 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?
	No, indeed, is't not; and I would to heaven
	I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 4><SCENE 1><58%>
<ARTHUR>	<59%>
	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:
	I warrant I love you more than you do me.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 4><SCENE 1><58%>
<ARTHUR>	<59%>
	Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect.
	Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 4><SCENE 1><59%>
<ARTHUR>	<59%>
	And will you?
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 4><SCENE 1><59%>
<ARTHUR>	<59%>
	Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
	I knit my handkercher 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 spoke a loving word to you;
	But you at your sick-service had a prince.
	Nay, you may think my love was crafty love,
	And call it cunning: do an if you will.
	If heaven be pleas'd 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?
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 4><SCENE 1><59%>
<ARTHUR>	<60%>
	Ah! none but in this iron age would do it!
	The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,
	Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears
	And quench this fiery indignation
	Even in the matter of mine innocence;
	Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
	But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
	Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron?
	An if an angel should have come to me
	And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,
	I would not have believ'd him; no tongue but Hubert's.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 4><SCENE 1><60%>
<ARTHUR>	<60%>
	O! save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes are out
	Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 4><SCENE 1><60%>
<ARTHUR>	<61%>
	Alas! what need you be so boisterousrough?
	I will not struggle; I will stand stone-still.
	For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound!
	Nay, hear me, Hubert: drive these men away,
	And I will sit as quiet as a lamb;
	I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
	Nor look upon the iron angerly.
	Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
	Whatever torment you do put me to.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 4><SCENE 1><60%>
<ARTHUR>	<61%>
	Alas! I then have chid away my friend:
	He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart.
	Let him come back, that his compassion may
	Give life to yours.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 4><SCENE 1><61%>
<ARTHUR>	<61%>
	Is there no remedy?
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 4><SCENE 1><61%>
<ARTHUR>	<61%>
	O heaven! that there were but a mote in yours,
	A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,
	Any annoyance in that precious sense;
	Then feeling what small things are boisterous there,
	Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 4><SCENE 1><61%>
<ARTHUR>	<62%>
	Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues
	Must 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! spare mine eyes,
	Though to no use but still to look on you:
	Lo! by my troth, the instrument is cold
	And would not harm me.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 4><SCENE 1><61%>
<ARTHUR>	<62%>
	No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with grief,
	Being create for comfort, to be us'd
	In undeserv'd extremes: see else yourself;
	There is no malice in this burning coal;
	The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out
	And strew'd repentant ashes on his head.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 4><SCENE 1><61%>
<ARTHUR>	<62%>
	An if you do you will but make it blush
	And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert:
	Nay, it perchance will sparkle in your eyes;
	And like a dog that is compell'd to fight,
	Snatch at his master that doth tarre him on.
	All things that you should use to do me wrong
	Deny their office: only you do lack
	That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends,
	Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 4><SCENE 1><62%>
<ARTHUR>	<63%>
	O! now you look like Hubert, all this while
	You were disguised.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 4><SCENE 1><62%>
<ARTHUR>	<63%>
	O heaven! I thank you, Hubert.
</ARTHUR>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 4><SCENE 3><73%>
<ARTHUR>	<73%>
	The wall is high; and yet will I leap down
	Good ground, be pitiful and hurt me not!
	There's few or none do know me; if they did,
	This ship-boy's semblance hath disguis'd me quite.
	I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it.
	If I get down, and do not break my limbs,
	I'll find a thousand shifts to get away:
	As good to die and go, as die and stay.
<STAGE DIR>
<Leaps down.>
</STAGE DIR>
	O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones:
	Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
<STAGE DIR>
<Dies.>
</STAGE DIR>

</ARTHUR>

