PALAMON.
Yes.
[Eats.]
ARCITE.
I am glad you have so good a stomach.
PALAMON.
I am gladder I have so good meat to ’t.
ARCITE.
Is’t not mad lodging,
Here in the wild woods, cousin?
PALAMON.
Yes, for them
That have wild consciences.
ARCITE.
How tastes your victuals?
Your hunger needs no sauce, I see.
PALAMON.
Not much.
But if it did, yours is too tart, sweet cousin.
What is this?
ARCITE.
Venison.
PALAMON.
’Tis a lusty meat.
Give me more wine. Here, Arcite, to the wenches
We have known in our days! The Lord Steward’s daughter,
Do you remember her?