Car. His wrongs to you: the sense Of sinne has pierc'd his soule.
Onae. Blest penitence!
Car. 'Has turn'd his eyes[184] into his leprous bosome, And like a King vowes execution On all his traiterous passions.
Onae. God-like Justice!
Car. Intends in person presently to begge Forgivenesse for his Acts of heaven and you.
Onae. Heaven pardon him; I shall.
Car. Will marry you.
Onae. Umph! marry me? will he turne Bigamist? When, when?
Car. Before the morrow Sunne hath rode
Halfe his dayes journey; will send home his Queene
As one that staines his bed and can produce
Nothing but bastard Issue to his Crowne.—
Why, how now? lost in wonder and amazement?
Onae. I am so stor'd with joy that I can now Strongly weare out more yeares of misery Than I have liv'd.