Lear.
Let me alone.

Kent.
Good my lord, enter here.

Lear.
Wilt break my heart?

Kent.
I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.

Lear.
Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm
Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee
But where the greater malady is fix'd,
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a bear;
But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea,
Thou'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free,
The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else
Save what beats there.--Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand
For lifting 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;