ARCITE. This is the Duke, a-hunting, as I told you. If we be found, we are wretched. O, retire, For honour’s sake and safety, presently Into your bush again. Sir, we shall find Too many hours to die in. Gentle cousin, If you be seen, you perish instantly For breaking prison and I, if you reveal me, For my contempt. Then all the world will scorn us, And say we had a noble difference, But base disposers of it. PALAMON. No, no, cousin, I will no more be hidden, nor put off This great adventure to a second trial; I know your cunning and I know your cause. He that faints now, shame take him! Put thyself Upon thy present guard— ARCITE. You are not mad? PALAMON. Or I will make th’advantage of this hour Mine own, and what to come shall threaten me I fear less than my fortune. Know, weak cousin, I love Emilia, and in that I’ll bury Thee, and all crosses else. ARCITE. Then, come what can come, Thou shalt know, Palamon, I dare as well Die, as discourse, or sleep. Only this fears me, The law will have the honour of our ends. Have at thy life! PALAMON. Look to thine own well, Arcite. [_They fight. Horns within. They stand._] Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous and train. THESEUS. What ignorant and mad malicious traitors Are you, that ’gainst the tenor of my laws Are making battle, thus like knights appointed, Without my leave, and officers of arms? By Castor, both shall die. PALAMON. Hold thy word, Theseus. We are certainly both traitors, both despisers Of thee and of thy goodness. I am Palamon, That cannot love thee, he that broke thy prison. Think well what that deserves. And this is Arcite. A bolder traitor never trod thy ground, A falser ne’er seemed friend. This is the man Was begged and banished; this is he contemns thee And what thou dar’st do; and in this disguise, Against thine own edict, follows thy sister, That fortunate bright star, the fair Emilia, Whose servant—if there be a right in seeing And first bequeathing of the soul to—justly I am; and, which is more, dares think her his. This treachery, like a most trusty lover, I called him now to answer. If thou be’st As thou art spoken, great and virtuous, The true decider of all injuries, Say “Fight again,” and thou shalt see me, Theseus, Do such a justice thou thyself wilt envy. Then take my life; I’ll woo thee to ’t. PIRITHOUS. O heaven, What more than man is this! THESEUS. I have sworn.