Thes. Now to our sports again.
Sch. May the Stag thou huntst stand long,
And thy dogs be swift and strong:
May they kill him without lets,
And the Ladies eat his dowsets: Come we are all made. [Wind Horns.
Dii Deæq; Omnes, ye have danc'd rarely wenches. [Exeunt.
Scæna [6].
Enter Palamon from the Bush.
Pal. About this hour my Cosen gave his faith
To visit me again, and with him bring
Two Swords, and two good Armors; If he fail
He's neither man, nor Soldier; When he left me
I did not think a week could have restor'd
My lost strength to me, I was grown so low,
And Crest-fal'n with my wants: I thank thee Arcite,
Thou art yet a fair Foe; And I feel my self
With this refreshing, able once again
To out-dure danger: To delay it longer
Would make the world think when it comes to hearing,
That I lay fatting like a Swine, to fight
And not a Soldier: Therefore this blest morning
Shall be the last; And that Sword he refuses,
If it but hold, I kill him with; 'tis Justice:
So love, and Fortune for me: O good morrow.
Enter Arcite with Armors and Swords.
Arc. Good morrow noble kinsman.
Pal. I have put you
To too much pains Sir.