my name is lost; By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit: Yet am I noble as the adversary I come to cope. Which is that adversary? What's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester? Himself: what say'st thou to him? Draw thy sword, That, if my speech offend a noble heart, Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine. Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours, My oath, and my profession: I protest, Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence, Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune, Thy valour and thy heart, thou art a traitor; False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father; Conspirant 'gainst this high-illustrious prince; And, from the extremest upward of thy head To the descent and dust below thy foot, A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou 'No,' This sword, this arm, and my best spirits, are bent To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak, Thou liest. In wisdom I should ask thy name; But, since thy outside looks so fair and warlike, And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes, What safe and nicely I might well delay By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn: Back do I toss these treasons to thy head; With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart; Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise, This sword of mine shall give them instant way, Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets, speak! Save him, save him! This is practise, Gloucester: By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish'd, But cozen'd and beguiled. Shut your mouth, dame, Or with this paper shall I stop it: Hold, sir: Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil: No tearing, lady: I perceive you know it. Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine: Who can arraign me for't. Most monstrous! oh! Know'st thou this paper? Ask me not what I know. Go after her: she's desperate; govern her. What you have charged me with, that have I done; And more, much more; the time will bring it out: 'Tis past, and so am I. But what art thou That hast this fortune on me? If thou'rt noble, I do forgive thee. Let's exchange charity. I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund; If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me. My name is Edgar, and thy father's son. The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to