Doe not you feele it thaw you?
PALAMON.
Stay, Ile tell you after a draught or two more.
ARCITE.
Spare it not, the Duke has more, Cuz: Eate now.
PALAMON.
Yes.
ARCITE.
I am glad you have so good a stomach.
PALAMON.
I am gladder I have so good meate too't.
ARCITE.
Is't not mad lodging here in the wild woods, Cosen?
PALAMON.
Yes, for them that have wilde Consciences.
ARCITE.
How tasts your vittails? your hunger needs no sawce, I see.
PALAMON.
Not much;
But if it did, yours is too tart, sweete Cosen: what is this?
ARCITE.
Venison.
PALAMON.
Tis a lusty meate:
Giue me more wine; here, Arcite, to the wenches
We have known in our daies. The Lord Stewards daughter,
Doe you remember her?
ARCITE.
After you, Cuz.
PALAMON.
She lov'd a black-haird man.
ARCITE.
She did so; well, Sir.
PALAMON.
And I have heard some call him Arcite, and--
ARCITE.
Out with't, faith.
PALAMON.
She met him in an Arbour:
What did she there, Cuz? play o'th virginals?
ARCITE.
Something she did, Sir.
PALAMON.
Made her groane a moneth for't, or 2. or 3. or 10.
ARCITE.
The Marshals Sister
Had her share too, as I remember, Cosen,
Else there be tales abroade; you'l pledge her?
PALAMON.
Yes.
ARCITE.
A pretty broune wench t'is. There was a time
When yong men went a hunting, and a wood,
And a broade Beech: and thereby hangs a tale:--heigh ho!
PALAMON.
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