[Wind horns.]
Hark, sir, they call
The scattered to the banquet. You must guess
I have an office there.
PALAMON.
Sir, your attendance
Cannot please heaven, and I know your office
Unjustly is achieved.
ARCITE.
’Tis a good title.
I am persuaded, this question, sick between ’s,
By bleeding must be cured. I am a suitor
That to your sword you will bequeath this plea,
And talk of it no more.
PALAMON.
But this one word:
You are going now to gaze upon my mistress,
For, note you, mine she is—
ARCITE.
Nay, then—
PALAMON.
Nay, pray you,
You talk of feeding me to breed me strength.
You are going now to look upon a sun
That strengthens what it looks on; there
You have a vantage o’er me. But enjoy ’t till
I may enforce my remedy. Farewell.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. Another Part of the forest
Enter Jailer’s Daughter alone.