ARCITE.
Then Ile leave you: you are a Beast now.
PALAMON.
As thou makst me, Traytour.
ARCITE.
Ther’s all things needfull, files and shirts, and perfumes:
Ile come againe some two howres hence, and bring
That that shall quiet all,
PALAMON.
A Sword and Armour?
ARCITE.
Feare me not; you are now too fowle; farewell.
Get off your Trinkets; you shall want nought.
PALAMON.
Sir, ha—
ARCITE.
Ile heare no more. [Exit.]
PALAMON.
If he keepe touch, he dies for’t. [Exit.]
Scaena 4. (Another part of the forest.)
[Enter Iaylors daughter.]