All. O blest event!
Dor. Rise like the sun again in all his glory,
After a dark Eclipse.
Mar. Never without a pardon.
Enter Sophocles, and two or three with him.
Dor. Sir, you have forgiven your self.
Soph. Behold their impudence: are my words just?
Unthankful man, viper to Arms, and Rome
Thy natural mother; have I warm'd thee here
To corrode ev'n my heart? Martius, prepare
To kill me, or be kill'd.
Mar. Why Sophocles?
Then prethee kill me; I deserve it highly;
For I have both transgress'd 'gainst men, and gods;
But am repentant now, and in best case
To uncase my soul of this oppressing flesh;
Which, though (Gods witness) nev'r was actually
Injurious to thy wife and thee, yet 't was
Her goodness that restrain'd and held me now:
But take my life, dear friend, for my intent,
Or else forgive it.
Val. By the gods of Athens,
These words are true, and all direct again.
Soph. Pardon me, Dorigen.
Mar. Forgive me, Sophocles,
And Dorigen too, and every one that 's good.