Humbly call'd mistress.
King. Praising what is lost
Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither;
[We are] reconciled, and the first view shall kill
All repetition: let him not ask our pardon;
The [nature] of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion [we do] bury
The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; and inform him
So 'tis our will he should.