PALAMON.
Yes.
ARCITE.
Am not I liable to those affections,
Those joys, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer?
PALAMON.
Ye may be.
ARCITE.
Why then would you deal so cunningly,
So strangely, so unlike a noble kinsman,
To love alone? Speak truly; do you think me
Unworthy of her sight?
PALAMON.
No; but unjust,
If thou pursue that sight.
ARCITE.
Because another
First sees the enemy, shall I stand still
And let mine honour down, and never charge?
PALAMON.
Yes, if he be but one.
ARCITE.
But say that one
Had rather combat me?
PALAMON.
Let that one say so,
And use thy freedom. Else, if thou pursuest her,
Be as that cursed man that hates his country,
A branded villain.
ARCITE.
You are mad.