365 I should be guiltier than my guiltiness,
To think I can be undiscernible,
When I perceive your Grace, like power divine,
Hath look’d upon my passes. Then, good prince,
No longer session hold upon my shame,
370 But let my trial be mine own confession:
Immediate sentence then, and sequent death,
Is all the grace I beg.
Duke.
Come hither, Mariana.