That slay the wooers. (Runs to Pen.) O lady, forgive me!
’Tis Ares’ self. I saw his crispèd beard:
I saw beneath his helm his curling locks.
None will escape. O lady, save me, save me. [Kneels.
Maids all. Let them not slay us. Lady! lady! forgive us!2699
Pen. Why kneelest thou to me? Fools, why to me?
I have nothing to forgive you. There is no wrong
’Twixt me and you: Or if the gods should punish,
Can I protect?
Maids.Forgive us, queen, forgive us!