_Mar._ If this be needful.
_King._ Ha! didst not thou thyself, in fathoming
The depth of my designs, drop there the plummet?
Didst thou not say--Affronts so great, so public,
I never could forgive?
_Mar._ I did; but yet--
_King._ What means, _but yet?_ 'tis evidence so full,
If the last trumpet sounded in my ears,
Undaunted I should meet the saints half way,
And in the face of heaven maintain the fact.
_Mar._ Maintain it then to heaven, but not to me.
Do you love me?
_King._ Can you doubt it?
_Mar._ Yes, I can doubt it, if you can deny;
Love begs once more this great offender's life.
Can you forgive the man you justly hate,
That hazards both your life and crown to spare him?
One, whom you may suspect I more than pity,--
For I would have you see, that what I ask,
I know, is wondrous difficult to grant,--
Can you be thus extravagantly good?
_King._ What then? for I begin to fear my firmness,
And doubt the soft destruction of your tongue.
_Mar._ Then, in return, I swear to heaven and you,
To give you all the preference of my soul;
No rebel rival to disturb you there;
Let him but live, that he may be my convert!
[_King walks awhile, then wipes
his eyes, and speaks._
_King._ You've conquered; all that's past shall be forgiven.
My lavish love has made a lavish grant;
But know, this act of grace shall be my last.
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