I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the iron angrily:
Thrust but these men away, and I’ll forgive you,
Whatever torment you do put me to.
Hubert. Go, stand within; let me alone with him.
Executioner. I am best pleas’d to be from such a deed. |[Exit.|
Arthur. 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.