SCENE III. The same part of the forest as in scene I.

Enter Arcite with meat, wine and files.

ARCITE. I should be near the place.—Ho! Cousin Palamon!

PALAMON. [ From the bush. ] Arcite?

ARCITE. The same. I have brought you food and files. Come forth and fear not; here’s no Theseus.

Enter Palamon .

PALAMON. Nor none so honest, Arcite.

ARCITE. That’s no matter. We’ll argue that hereafter. Come, take courage; You shall not die thus beastly. Here, sir, drink— I know you are faint—then I’ll talk further with you.

PALAMON. Arcite, thou mightst now poison me.

ARCITE. I might; But I must fear you first. Sit down and, good now, No more of these vain parleys; let us not, Having our ancient reputation with us, Make talk for fools and cowards. To your health.

[ Drinks. ]

PALAMON. Do.

ARCITE. Pray sit down, then, and let me entreat you, By all the honesty and honour in you, No mention of this woman; ’twill disturb us. We shall have time enough.

PALAMON. Well, sir, I’ll pledge you.

[ Drinks. ]

ARCITE. Drink a good hearty draught; it breeds good blood, man. Do not you feel it thaw you?

PALAMON. Stay, I’ll tell you After a draught or two more.

ARCITE. Spare it not; the Duke has more, coz. Eat now.

PALAMON. Yes.

[ Eats. ]

ARCITE. I am glad you have so good a stomach.

PALAMON. I am gladder I have so good meat to ’t.

ARCITE. Is’t not mad lodging, Here in the wild woods, cousin?

PALAMON. Yes, for them That have wild consciences.

ARCITE. How tastes your victuals? Your hunger needs no sauce, I see.

PALAMON. Not much. But if it did, yours is too tart, sweet cousin. What is this?

ARCITE. Venison.

PALAMON. ’Tis a lusty meat. Give me more wine. Here, Arcite, to the wenches We have known in our days! The Lord Steward’s daughter, Do you remember her?

ARCITE. After you, coz.

PALAMON. She loved a black-haired man.

ARCITE. She did so; well, sir?

PALAMON. And I have heard some call him Arcite, and—

ARCITE. Out with’t, faith.

PALAMON. She met him in an arbour. What did she there, coz? Play o’ th’ virginals?

ARCITE. Something she did, sir.

PALAMON. Made her groan a month for ’t, Or two, or three, or ten.

ARCITE. The Marshal’s sister Had her share too, as I remember, cousin, Else there be tales abroad. You’ll pledge her?

PALAMON. Yes.

ARCITE. 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!

PALAMON. For Emily, upon my life! Fool, Away with this strained mirth! I say again That sigh was breathed for Emily. Base cousin, Dar’st thou break first?

ARCITE. You are wide.

PALAMON. By heaven and earth, There’s nothing in thee honest.

ARCITE. Then I’ll leave you. You are a beast now.

PALAMON. As thou mak’st me, traitor.

ARCITE. There’s all things needful: files and shirts and perfumes. I’ll come again some two hours hence, and bring That that shall quiet all.

PALAMON. A sword and armour?

ARCITE. Fear me not. You are now too foul. Farewell. Get off your trinkets; you shall want naught.

PALAMON. Sirrah—

ARCITE. I’ll hear no more.

[ Exit. ]

PALAMON. If he keep touch, he dies for ’t.

[ Exit. ]