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Why then you must Will you put out mine eyes ?
Aas, what need you be fo boist'rous rough?
Hub. None but to lose your eyes.
Art. O heav'n! that there were but a moth in yours,
In this the antique and well-noted face
Makes found opinion fick, and truth suspected,
This is the man, shou'd do the bloody deed j;
Struggling Conscience. The colour of the king doth come and go Between his purpose and his conscience, Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles sent;: His passion is so ripe, it needs must break. Scene IV. News-Tellers, on the Death of Arthur,
Old men and beldams, in the streets, Do prophecy upon it dangerously : Young Arthur's 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 doth gripe the hearer's wrist, Whilft he that hears makes fearful action ; With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. I saw a smith itand with his hammer, thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open mouth, swallowing a taylor's news, Who, with his shears and measure in his hand, Standing on slippers, which his nimble halte Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet, Told of a many thousand warlike French, That were embatteled and rank'd in Kent. Another lean, unwash'd artificer Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.
Kings evil Purposes too servily and hastily executed..
(8) It is the curse of kings, to be attended
A Villain's Look, and wicked Zeal.
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds,
(8) It is, &c.] So the king, in A King and no King, observesy,
If there were no such instruments as thou,
And live with him ; for him thou can'st not spoil. And a little before, he speaks of Belus, as the most horrid object, after consenting to his wicked proposal:
But thou appear'st to me after thy grant;
Act 3. the end.
Or bid me tell my tale in express words;
SCENE VI. HYPOCRIS
(9) If thou didst but consent To this most cruel act, do but despair, And if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread, That ever spider twisted from her womb, Will strangle thee: a rush will be a beam To hang thee on: or would'st thou drown thy sell, Put but a little water in a spoon, And it shall be as all the ocean, Enough to ftifle such a villain up.
Let me wipe off this honourable dew,
(9) It is, &c.] So in the Winter's Tale, Paulina tells the king his crime is fo great, it can never be forgiven, and nothing rsmains for him but to despair. See Vol. 1. p. 140.
Than had I seen the vaulty top of heav'n,
SCENE IV. DRUMS.
Do but start
Scene IX. The Approach of Death. It is too late, the life of all his blood Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain, (Which, some suppose, the foul's frail dwelling-house) Doth, by the idle comments that it makes, Foretel the ending of mortality.
Madness, occafion'd by Poison. (10) Ay, marry, now my foul hath elbow-room, It would not out at windows, nor at doors.
(10) Ay, marry, &c.] In the Valentinian of Beaumont and Fletcher, the emperor is brought on the stage, poisoned.---- There he calls out for