Page 1374 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

They bow several ways, then advance and stand.
Is there aught else to say?

PALAMON
This only, and no more. Thou art mine aunt’s son,
And that blood we desire to shed is mutual, [95]
In me, thine, and in thee, mine; my sword

Is in my hand, and if thou killest me
The gods and I forgive thee. If there he
A place prepared for those that sleep in honour,

I wish his weary soul that falls may win it. [100]
Fight bravely, cousin; give me thy noble hand.

ARCITE
Here, Palamon. This hand shall never more
Come near thee with such friendship.

PALAMON
I commend thee.

ARCITE
If I fall, curse me, and say I was a coward,

For none but such dare die in these just trials. [105]
One more farewell, my cousin.

PALAMON
Farewell, Arcite.
They fight. Then horns sound within; they stand.

ARCITE
Lo, cousin, lo, our folly has undone us!

PALAMON

Why?

ARCITE

This is the Duke, a-hunting as I told you;