the dingy little space! A streak of light from
the window fell on the Duke's mantle and his jewels. They looked
strangely bright in that dark room beside the faded clothes of the two
young prisoners.

Arcite and the friend of Theseus greeted each other joyously, and the
heart of Arcite beat wildly with hope, but when he heard the words of
Theseus the Duke it sank like lead.

"Arcite," said he, "by the desire of my friend, I grant to thee thy
freedom. I grant it on one condition only. Thou must wander away far
beyond my kingdom. If ever thou art seen for one moment on any
furthest corner of my land, that moment shall be thy last. By the
sword thou shalt die."

Homeward to Thebes sped Arcite with a sad heart.

"Woe is me for the day that I was born!" he moaned; "woe is me that
ever I knew the friend of Theseus! Had he not known me, I might even
now be gazing on the maiden I serve, from the window in the Duke's
tower. Ah, Palamon, thou art the victor now! Day by day thou gazest on
her, and kind fortune may grant to thee thy freedom and her favor
while I am banished for ever! Ah, why do we complain against our
fortune? We know that we seek happiness, but know not the road
thither! Think how I dreamt and longed for freedom, and thought that
if I were only out of prison my joy would be perfect. Behold, my
freedom is my banishment, and my hope my undoing!"

As for Palamon, when he saw that Arcite was gone, he made the great
tower walls re-echo with his howls of misery. The very fetters on his
ankles were wet with his salt tears.

"Alas," he groaned, "Arcite, my cousin, thou hast borne off the prize
in this strife of ours! Thou walkest now at liberty in Thebes. Little
thou thinkest of me and of my sorrow! Strong thou art, and wise.
Doubtless thou art even now gathering together the people of Thebes to
invade this land and win the sister of the Duke for thy wife, while I
die here in this prison like a caged lion. The prison walls heed my
weeping and my wailing not at all."

He could not even rejoice in the sight of Emelia when she walked in
the garden, so fearful was he lest Arcite should win her.

Meanwhile Arcite passed his days in Thebes in grief. He wandered about
alone, and wailed and made moan to himself. He cared not to eat, and
sleep forsook him. His spirits were so feeble that the sound of music
brought fresh tears to his eyes. He grew gaunt and thin, and his voice
was hollow with sadness.

At last, when he