"Indeed, I have been merrier," said Hubert, who, though he did not like to disobey the King, was yet miserable at the wicked deed he had been asked to do.
"Nobody," said Arthur, "should be sad but I. If 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 for my uncle. He is afraid of me and I of him. Is it my fault that I was Geoffrey's son? Indeed it is not, and I would to heaven I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert."
"If I talk to him," said Hubert to himself, "I shall never have the courage to do this wicked deed."
"Are you ill, Hubert?" Arthur went on. "You look pale to-day. If you were ill I would sit all night and watch you, for I believe I love you more than you do me."
Hubert dared not listen. He felt he must do the King's wicked will, so he pulled out the paper on which the King had written his cruel order, and showed it to the young Prince. Arthur read it calmly and then turned to Hubert.
"So you are to put out my eyes with hot irons?"
"Young boy, I must," said Hubert.
"And you will?" asked Arthur.
And Hubert answered, "And I will."