Invades us to the skin; so 'tis to thee;
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a bear;
But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea,
Doth from my senses there. Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand
For lighting food to 't? But I will punish home.
No, I will weep no more. In such a night
To shut me out! Pour on! I will endure.
In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,--
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that.