_Pal._ And me too, Even when you please of life; why is he sent for? It may be he shall marry her, he's goodly, And like enough the Duke hath taken notice Both of his Bloud and Body: but his falshood, Why should a friend be treacherous? if that Get him a Wife so noble, and so fair; Let honest men ne'er love again. Once more I would but see this fair one: blessed Garden, And Fruit, and Flowers more blessed that still blossom As her bright eies shine on ye. Would I were For all the fortune of my life hereafter Yon little Tree, yon blooming Apricock; How I would spread, and fling my wanton arms In at her window; I would bring her fruit Fit for the gods to feed on: youth and pleasure Still as she tasted should be doubled on her, And if she be not heavenly, I would make her So near the gods in nature, they should fear her. _Enter Keeper._ And then I'm sure she would love me: how now Keeper, Where's _Arcite_? _Keep._ Banish'd: Prince _Pirithous_ Obtain'd his liberty; but never more Upon his oath and life must he set foot Upon this Kingdom. _Pal._ He's a blessed man, He shall see _Thebes_ again, and call to Arms The bold young men, that when he bids 'em charge, Fall on like fire: _Arcite_ shall have a Fortune, If he dare make himself a worthy Lover, Yet in the Field to strike a battel for her; And if he lose her then, he's a cold Coward; How bravely may he bear himself to win her If he be noble _Arcite_; thousand ways. Were I at liberty, I would do things Of such a virtuous greatness, that this Lady, This blushing Virgin should take manhood to her And seek to ravish me. _Keep._ My Lord for you I have this charge too. _Pal._ To discharge my life. _Keep._ No, but from this place to remove your Lordship, The windows are too open. _Pal._ Devils take 'em That are so envious to me; prethee kill me. _Keep._ And hang for't afterward. _Pal._ By this good light Had I a sword I would kill thee. _Keep._ Why my Lord? _Pal._ Thou bring'st such pelting scurvy news continually Thou art not worthy life; I will not go. _Keep._ Indeed you must my Lord. _Pal._ May I see the Garden? _Keep._ No. _Pal._ Then I am resolv'd, I will not go. _Keep._ I must constrain you then: and, for you are dangerous I'll clap more irons on you. _Pal._ Doe good Keeper. I'll shake 'em so, ye shall not sleep, I'll make ye a new Morri[ss]e, must I goe? _Keep._ There is no remedy. _Pal._ Farewel kind window. May rude wind never hurt thee. Oh my Lady, If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was, Dream how I suffer. Come; now bury me. [_Exeunt_ Palamon _and Keeper_. _Scæna Tertia._ _Enter_ Arcite.