Pal. Look to thine own well Arcite. [Fight again. Horns.
Enter Theseus, Hippolita, Emilia, Perithous and train.
Theseus. What ignorant and mad malicious Traitors,
Are you? That 'gainst the tenor of my Laws
Are making Battail, thus like Knights appointed,
Without my leave, and Officers of Armes?
By Castor both shall dye.
Pal. Hold thy word Theseus,
We are certainly both Traitors, both despisers
Of thee, and of thy goodness: I'm Palamon
That cannot love thee, he that broke thy Prison,
Think well, what that deserves; And this is Arcite
A bolder Traytor never trod thy ground,
A Falser never seem'd friend: This is the man
Was beg'd and banish'd, this is he contemnes thee
And what thou dar'st doe; and in this disguise
Against this own Edict follows thy Sister,
That fortunate bright Star, the fair Emilia
Whose servant, (if there be a right in seeing,
And first bequeathing of the soul to) justly
[I am], and which is more, dares think her his.
This treacherie like a most trusty Lover,
I call'd him now to answer; If thou be'st
As thou art spoken, great and virtuous,
The true decider of all injuries,
Say, Fight again, and thou shalt see me Theseus
Doe such a Justice, thou thy self wilt envie
Then take my life, I'll wooe thee to't.
Per. O Heaven,
What more than man is this!
Thes. I have sworn.
Arc. We seek not
Thy breath of mercy Theseus, 'Tis to me
A thing as soon to dye, as thee to say it,
And no more mov'd: where this man calls me Traitor,
Let me say thus much; If in love be Treason,
In service of so excellent a Beautie,
As I love most, and in that faith will perish,
As I have brought my life here to confirme it,
As I have serv'd her truest, worthiest,
As I dare kill this Cosen, that denies it,
So let me be most Traitor, and ye please me:
For scorning thy Edict Duke, aske that Lady
Why she is fair, and why her eyes command me
Stay here to love her. And if she say Traytor,
I'm a villain fit to lye unburied.
Pal. Thou shalt have pity of us both, O Theseus,
If unto neither thou shew mercy, stop
(As thou art just) thy noble ear against us,
As thou art valiant; For thy Cosens soul
Whose 12. strong labors crown his memory,
Let's die together, at one instant, Duke,
Only a little let him fall before me,
That I may tell my Soul he shall not have her.
Thes. I grant your wish, for to say true, your Cosen
Has ten times more offended, for I gave him
More mercy than you found, Sir, your offences
Being no more than his: None here speak for 'em
For ere the Sun set, both shall sleep for ever.
Hippol. Alas the pity, now or never Sister
Speak not to be denied; That face of yours
Will bear the curses else of after ages
For these lost Cosens.