And desperate plight, behold, the time is come,
That either justifies our former faults,
Or shortly sets us free from every fear.
Guenevera. My fear is past, and wedlock love hath won.
Retire we thither yet, whence first we ought
Not to have stirr’d. Call back chaste faith again.
The way that leads to good is ne’er too late:
Who so repents is guiltless of his crimes.
Mordred. What means this course? Is Arthur’s wedlock safe,
Or can he love, that hath just cause to hate?