 | The Two Noble Kinsmen |  |
Scæna Tertia.
Enter Arcite, with Meat, Wine, and Files.Arc.
I should be near the place, hoa. Cosen Palamon.
Enter Palamon.
Pal.
Arcite?
Arc.
The same: I have brought you food and files,
Come forth and fear not, here's no Theseus.
Pal.
Nor none so honest Arcite.
Arc.
That's no matter,
We'll argue that hereafter: Come take courage,
You shall not dye thus beastly, here Sir drink:
I know you're faint, then I'll talk further with you.
Pal.
Arcite, thou mightst now poyson me.
Arc.
I might.
But I must fear you first: Sit down, and good now
No more of these vain parlies; let us not
Having our ancient reputation with us
Make talk for Fools, and Cowards, To your health. &c.
Pal.
Doe.
Arc.
Pray sit down then, and let me entreat you
By all the honesty and honor in you,
No mention of this woman, 'twill disturb us,
We shall have time enough.
Pal.
Well Sir, I'll pledge you.
Arc.
Drinke a good hearty draught, it breeds good blood man.
Doe not you feel it thaw you?
Pal.
Stay, I'll tell you after a draught or two more.
Arc.
Spare it not, the Duke has more Cuz: Eat now.
Pal.
Yes.
Arc.
I'm glad you have so good a stomach.
Pal.
I'm gladder I have so good meat to't.
Arc.
Is't not mad lodging here in the wild woods Cosen?
Pal.
Yes, for them that have wild Consciences.
Arc.
How tasts your victuals? your hunger needs no sawce I see.
Pal.
Not much.
But if it did, yours is too tart: sweet Cosen: what is this?
Arc.
Venison.
Pal.
'Tis a lusty meat:
Give me more wine; here Arcite to the wenches
We have known in our daies. The Lord Stewards daughter.
Doe you remember her?
Arc.
After you Cuz.
Pal.
She lov'd a black-hair'd man.
Arc.
She did so; well Sir.
Pal.
And I have heard some call him Arcite; and
Arc.
Out with't faith.
Pal.
She met him in an Arbor:
What did she there Cuz? play o'the virginals?
Arc.
Something she did Sir.
Pal.
Made her groan a Month for't; or 2. or 3. or 10.
Arc.
The Marshals Sister,
Had her share too, as I remember Cosen,
Else there be tales abroad, you'll pledge her?
Pal.
Yes.
Arc.
A pretty brown wench 'tis: There was a time
When young men went a hunting, and a wood,
And a broad beech: and thereby hangs a tale: heigh ho.
Pal.
For Emily, upon my life, fool
A way with this strain'd mirth; I say again
That sigh was breath'd for Emily; base Cosen,
Dar'st thou break first?
Arc.
You are wide.
Pal.
By heaven and earth, there's nothing in thee honest.
Arc.
Then I'll leave you: you are a Beast now:
Pal.
As thou mak'st me, Traytor.
Arc.
There's all things needfull, files and shirts, and perfumes.
I'll come again some two hours hence, and bring
That that shall quiet all.
Pal.
A Sword and Armor.
Arc.
Fear me not; you are now too fowl; farewell.
Get off your Trinkets, you shall want nought;
Pal.
Sir ha;
Arc.
I'll here no more.
Exit.
Pal.
If he keep touch, he dies for't.
Exit.
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