Ort. So, he is dead,
I hope.
Arb. No more than you are.
Ort. How so?
Arb. Come,
My lord, as you go, I'll tell you.
[Exeunt Arbatus and Ortellus.
Duke. O Artabella, why didst take my sin
Upon thyself, hiding thy innocence
With a face of guilt? My death had been not
Punishment enough, because I have wrong'd
So fair a life as yours. Which way to ask
Forgiveness, I can't tell; there are no pardons for
Such sins as mine; the only way to do
Thee right, is this. [Offers to kill himself.
Art. Hold, sir, my life
Shall follow yours, if you strike.
Duke. Why would'st thou
Have me live?
Art. Because I love you, sir.
Duke. And that's the only reason I would die.