The. I'll speak the thanks he waited not to hear,
Although my heart gives none for this poor life.
[Enter warrior, rear, still in arms and helmeted]
Dion. Thou'rt welcome as the gods. As lightning makes
The world now bright, now dark, you fill and void
The circle of our sense, but, here or there,
'Tis ours to grant you what you will if power
Be in us.
Warrior. [Kneeling] For one thing I sue—forgiveness.
[Removes helmet]