[Dashing his mantle aside, and pointing to his scabbard, which is empty.
Ah, this speaks for you!
You've murdered Henry Mertoun! Now proceed!
What is it I must pardon? This and all?
Well, I do pardon you—I think I do.
Thorold, how very wretched you must be!
Tresh. He bade me tell you ...
Mil. What I do forbid
Your utterance of! So much that you may tell
And will not—how you murdered him ... but, no!