Look upon me, all, and see a wretch. No-- see what you would like, a man, a monster, wayward traveller, a wronged innocent, victim to his birth, and I am all and more. I am Edmund, son to the goodly Earl of Gloucester-- born not to his wife, and yet without a doubt his son. There hath been to me delivered many a kick, a scowl, a word or two, all
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Me! Admittedly, I'm odd, but....
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Must thou dwell so long upon the habits of our father's chamber?
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Words that look well upon he who suffers not by these very habits, good Edgar.
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Such foul words will I never lay upon my father.
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Um, and I thought I should let you know - I'm not sure about the stars or anything, but - gods are very present around here and they really do smite people they don't like. Regularly.
typist: squeee! Edmund! *hides*
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