Hen. You promise then
Your fullest pardon?
Kent. Your open deeds, my lord,
Bear such a noble front I should not fear
To clap a lusty "ay" to all you've done
In secret.
Hen. Thank you, Kent. And Roland, too,—
Our good lord Wynne—must echo you with pardon,
For I have touched him when he felt me not,
And shortly he must look upon his wound.