Page 1373 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

PALAMON

More by virtue;
You are modest, cousin.

ARCITE
When I saw you charge first,
Methought I heard a dreadful clap of thunder

Break from the troop.

PALAMON
But still before that flew
The lightning of your valour. Stay a little; [85]
Is not this piece too strait?

ARCITE
No, no, ’tis well.

PALAMON
I would have nothing hurt thee but my sword;

A bruise would be dishonour.

ARCITE
Now I am perfect.

PALAMON
Stand off then.

ARCITE
Take my sword; I hold it better.

PALAMON
I thank ye. No, keep it, your life lies on it. [90]

Here’s one; if it but hold, I ask no more,
For all my hopes. My cause and honour guard me!

ARCITE
And me my love!