PALAMON.
Pray hold your promise; And doe the deede with a bent brow: most certaine You love me not, be rough with me, and powre This oile out of your language; by this ayre, I could for each word give a Cuffe, my stomach Not reconcild by reason.
ARCITE.
Plainely spoken, Yet pardon me hard language: when I spur [Winde hornes.] My horse, I chide him not; content and anger In me have but one face. Harke, Sir, they call The scatterd to the Banket; you must guesse I have an office there.
PALAMON.
Sir, your attendance Cannot please heaven, and I know your office Vnjustly is atcheev'd.
ARCITE.
If a good title, I am perswaded this question sicke between's By bleeding must be cur'd. I am a Suitour, That to your Sword you will bequeath this plea And talke of it no more.
PALAMON.
But this one word: You are going now to gaze upon my Mistris, For note you, mine she is--
ARCITE.
Nay, then.
PALAMON.
Nay, pray you, You talke of feeding me to breed me strength: You are going now to looke upon a Sun That strengthens what it lookes on; there You have a vantage ore me, but enjoy't till I may enforce my remedy. Farewell. [Exeunt.]
Scaena 2. (Another Part of the forest.)
[Enter Iaylors daughter alone.]
DAUGHTER.
He has mistooke the Brake I meant, is gone After his fancy. Tis now welnigh morning; No matter, would it were perpetuall night, And darkenes Lord o'th world. Harke, tis a woolfe: In me hath greife slaine feare, and but for one thing I care for nothing, and that's Palamon. I wreake not if the wolves would jaw me, so He had this File: what if I hallowd for him? I cannot hallow: if I whoop'd, what then? If he not answeard, I should call a wolfe, And doe him but that service. I have heard Strange howles this live-long night, why may't not be They have made prey of him? he has no weapons, He cannot run, the Iengling of his Gives Might call fell things to listen, who have in them A sence to know a man unarmd, and can Smell where resistance is. Ile set it downe He's torne to peeces; they howld many together And then they fed on him: So much for that, Be bold to ring the Bell; how stand I then? All's char'd when he is gone. No, no, I lye, My Father's to be hang'd for his escape; My selfe to beg, if I prizd life so much As to deny my act, but that I would not, Should I try death by dussons.--I am mop't, Food tooke I none these two daies, Sipt some water. I have not closd mine eyes Save when my lids scowrd off their brine; alas, Dissolue my life, Let not my sence unsettle, Least I should drowne, or stab or hang my selfe. O state of Nature, faile together in me, Since thy best props are warpt! So, which way now? The best way is the next way to a grave: Each errant step beside is torment. Loe, The Moone is down, the Cryckets chirpe, the Schreichowle Calls in the dawne; all offices are done Save what I faile in: But the point is this, An end, and that is all. [Exit.]
Scaena 3. (Same as Scene I.)
[Enter Arcite, with Meate, Wine, and Files.]
ARCITE.
I should be neere the place: hoa, Cosen Palamon. [Enter Palamon.]
PALAMON.
Arcite?
ARCITE.
The same: I have brought you foode and files. Come forth and feare not, here's no Theseus.
PALAMON.
Nor none so honest, Arcite.
ARCITE.
That's no matter, Wee'l argue that hereafter: Come, take courage; You shall not dye thus beastly: here, Sir, drinke; I know you are faint: then ile talke further with you.
PALAMON.
Arcite, thou mightst now poyson me.
ARCITE.
I might, But I must feare you first: Sit downe, and, good, now No more of these vaine parlies; let us not, Having our ancient reputation with us, Make talke for Fooles and Cowards. To your health, &c.
PALAMON.
Doe.
ARCITE.
Pray, sit downe then; and let me entreate you, By all the honesty and honour in you, No mention of this woman: t'will disturbe us; We shall have time enough.
PALAMON.
Well, Sir, Ile pledge you.
ARCITE.
Drinke a good hearty draught; it breeds good blood, man. Doe not you feele it thaw you?
PALAMON.