The Two Noble Kinsmen Part 20

That too much, faire Cosen, Is but a debt to honour, and my duty.

PALAMON.

Would you were so in all, Sir; I could wish ye As kinde a kinsman, as you force me finde A beneficiall foe, that my embraces Might thanke ye, not my blowes.

ARCITE.

I shall thinke either, well done, A n.o.ble recompence.

PALAMON.

Then I shall quit you.

ARCITE.

Defy me in these faire termes, and you show More then a Mistris to me, no more anger As you love any thing that's honourable: We were not bred to talke, man; when we are arm'd And both upon our guards, then let our fury, Like meeting of two tides, fly strongly from us, And then to whom the birthright of this Beauty Truely pertaines (without obbraidings, scornes, Dispisings of our persons, and such powtings, Fitter for Girles and Schooleboyes) will be seene And quickly, yours, or mine: wilt please you arme, Sir, Or if you feele your selfe not fitting yet And furnishd with your old strength, ile stay, Cosen, And ev'ry day discourse you into health, As I am spard: your person I am friends with, And I could wish I had not saide I lov'd her, Though I had dide; But loving such a Lady And justifying my Love, I must not fly from't.

PALAMON.

Arcite, thou art so brave an enemy, That no man but thy Cosen's fit to kill thee: I am well and l.u.s.ty, choose your Armes.

ARCITE.

Choose you, Sir.

PALAMON.

Wilt thou exceede in all, or do'st thou doe it To make me spare thee?

ARCITE.

If you thinke so, Cosen, You are deceived, for as I am a Soldier, I will not spare you.

PALAMON.

That's well said.

ARCITE.

You'l finde it.

PALAMON.

Then, as I am an honest man and love With all the justice of affection, Ile pay thee soundly. This ile take.

ARCITE.

That's mine, then; Ile arme you first.

PALAMON.

Do: pray thee, tell me, Cosen, Where gotst thou this good Armour?

ARCITE.

Tis the Dukes, And to say true, I stole it; doe I pinch you?

PALAMON.

Noe.

ARCITE.

Is't not too heavie?

PALAMON.

I have worne a lighter, But I shall make it serve.

ARCITE.

Ile buckl't close.

PALAMON.

By any meanes.

ARCITE.

You care not for a Grand guard?

PALAMON.

No, no; wee'l use no horses: I perceave You would faine be at that Fight.

ARCITE.

I am indifferent.

PALAMON.

Faith, so am I: good Cosen, thrust the buckle Through far enough.

ARCITE.

I warrant you.

PALAMON.