_Dor._ Stay, stay, and monster, keep thou further of; I thought thy brave soul would have much, much loath'd To have gone on still on such terms as this. See, thou ungrateful, since thy desperate lust Nothing can cure but death, I'll die for thee, Whilst my chaste name lives to posterity. _Mar._ Live, live, thou Angel of thy sex: forgive, Till by those golden tresses thou be'st snatch'd Alive to Heaven: for thy corruption's So little, that it cannot suffer death. Was ever such a woman? O my mirror! How perfectly thou shew'st me all my faults, Which now I hate, and when I next attempt thee, Let all the fires in the _Zodiak_ Drop on this cursed head. _All._ O blest event! _Dor._ Rise like the sun again in all his glory, After a dark Eclipse. _Mar._ Never without a pardon. _Enter Sophocles, and two or three with him._ _Dor._ Sir, you have forgiven your self. _Soph._ Behold their impudence: are my words just? Unthankful man, viper to Arms, and _Rome_ Thy natural mother; have I warm'd thee here To corrode ev'n my heart? _Martius_, prepare To kill me, or be kill'd. _Mar._ Why _Sophocles_? Then prethee kill me; I deserve it highly; For I have both transgress'd 'gainst men, and gods; But am repentant now, and in best case To uncase my soul of this oppressing flesh; Which, though (Gods witness) nev'r was actually Injurious to thy wife and thee, yet 't was Her goodness that restrain'd and held me now: But take my life, dear friend, for my intent, Or else forgive it. _Val._ By the gods of _Athens_, These words are true, and all direct again. _Soph._ Pardon me, _Dorigen_. _Mar._ Forgive me, _Sophocles_, And _Dorigen_ too, and every one that 's good. _Dor._ Rise, noble Roman, belov'd _Sophocles_, Take to thy brest thy friend. _Mar._ And to thy heart Thy matchless wife: Heaven has not stuff enough To make another such: for if it could, _Martius_ would marry too. For thy blest sake (O thou infinitie of excellence) Henceforth in mens discourse _Rome_ shall not take The wall of _Athens_, as 'tofore. But when In their fair honors we to speak do come, We'll say 'T was so in _Athens_, and in _Rome_. [_Exeun[t] in pomp._ _Diana descends._ Diana. _Honor set ope thy gates, and with thee bring_ _My servant and thy friend, fair_ Dorigen_:_ _Let her triumph, with her, her Lord, and friend,_ _Who, though misled, still honor was their end_. [Flourish.