Mar. O, let me wear them, sir!
My bond of blessedness—for I am blest
In dying for your sin!
Kent. That word again?
My sin?
Mar. Forgive me, Hubert. 'Twas no sin.
Indeed, 'twas none. For you were not yourself.
'Twas madness. Heaven must forgive it thee.
Kent. God help thee, Margaret! Wouldst say I did it?
Mar. Not you, but heavy, secret woe that bred