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*Fordim slaps Mithalwen across the face with his gauntlet, then tosses it at Mith's amazed feet*
Sir, I must ask you to accept this gauntlet in earnest of a more serious confrontation that I suggest we undertake early tomorrow upon the heath, where I shall answer your slanders in the most vigorous and peremptory manner.
Do you prefer pistols or swords? I shall await you in the appointed place at the appointed hour where, if you shall fail to appear so that I might pay you as you deserve for your words, I shall consider you the most arrant and cowardly knave.
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Scribbling scrabbling.
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