Page 1348 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

And therein wretched, although free. But if
Thou knewest my mistress breathed on me, and that
I eared her language, lived in her eye − O coz,
What passion would enclose thee!

Enter Palamon as out of a bush, with his shackles; he bends his fist at
Arcite.

PALAMON
Traitor kinsman, [30]
Thou shouldst perceive my passion, if these signs
Of prisonment were off me, and this hand

But owner of a sword. By all oaths in one,
I and the justice of my love would make thee
A confessed traitor, O thou most perfidious [35]
That ever gently looked, the voidest of honour

That e’er bore gentle token, falsest cousin
That ever blood made kin. Callest thou her thine?
I’ll prove it in my shackles, with these hands,
Void of appointment, that thou liest, and art [40]

A very thief in love, a chaffy lord
Not worth the name of villain. Had I a sword,
And these house-clogs away −

ARCITE
Dear cousin Palamon −

PALAMON
Cozener Arcite, give me language such

As thou hast showed me feat.

ARCITE
Not finding in [45]
The circuit of my breast any gross stuff
To form me like your blazon holds me to
This gentleness of answer: ’tis your passion

That thus mistakes, the which to you being enemy
Cannot to me be kind. Honour and honesty [50]