Hubert

King John
Come hither, Hubert.
He takes Hubert aside.
O, my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much. Within this wall of flesh
There is a soul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love.
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom dearly cherishèd.
Give me thy hand.
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Hubert
My lord, they say five moons were seen tonight—
Four fixèd, and the fifth did whirl about
The other four in wondrous motion.
King John
Five moons!
Hubert
Old men and beldams in the streets
Do prophesy upon it dangerously.
Young Arthur’s death is common in their mouths,
And when they talk of him,
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King John
Why seek’st thou to possess me with these fears?
Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur’s death?
Thy hand hath murdered him. I had a mighty cause
To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him.
Hubert
No had, my lord! Why, did you not provoke me?
King John
It is the curse of kings to be attended
By slaves that take their humors for a warrant
To break within the bloody house of life,
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Bastard
Here’s a good world! Knew you of this fair work?
Beyond the infinite and boundless reach
Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death,
Art thou damned, Hubert.
Hubert
Do but hear me, sir.
Bastard
Ha! I’ll tell thee what.
Thou ‘rt damned as black—nay, nothing is so black—
Thou art more deep damned than Prince Lucifer.
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