Page 1780 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

Lov’d as my father, as my master follow’d, [140]
As my great patron thought on in my prayers, −

LEAR
The bow is bent and drawn; make from the shaft.

KENT
Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly,

When Lear is mad. What would’st thou do, old man? [145]
Think’st thou that duty shall have dread to speak
When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour’s bound
When majesty falls to folly. Reserve thy state;

And, in thy best consideration, check
This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment, [150]
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;
Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sounds

Reverb no hollowness.

LEAR
Kent, on thy life, no more.

KENT
My life I never held but as a pawn
To wage against thine enemies; nor fear to lose it, [155]
Thy safety being motive.

LEAR

Out of my sight!

KENT

See better, Lear; and let me still remain
The true blank of thine eye.

LEAR
Now, by Apollo, −