Of one as dear to Heaven as myself
Lay burning at its root? Nay, I must wither
Unto this world, but as I fall thy name
Grows fairer, for I have confessed 'twas I.
For love of me you sinned. The punishment
Is mine.
Kent. Confessed? You have confessed? No, no!
Mar. I shall be soon forgot, but your great name
Will live, and since it must, or dark or bright,
I would remove as much of foulness from it