Dryden's Palamon and Arcite Part 7

Thus for three years he lived with large increase In arms of honour, and esteem in peace; To Theseus' person he was ever near, And Theseus for his virtues held him dear.

BOOK II.

While Arcite lives in bliss, the story turns Where hopeless Palamon in prison mourns.

For six long years immured, the captive knight Had dragged his chains, and scarcely seen the light: Lost liberty and love at once he bore; His prison pained him much, his pa.s.sion more: Nor dares he hope his fetters to remove, Nor ever wishes to be free from love.

But when the sixth revolving year was run, And May within the Twins received the sun, Were it by Chance, or forceful Destiny, Which forms in causes first whate'er shall be, a.s.sisted by a friend one moonless night, This Palamon from prison took his flight: A pleasant beverage he prepared before Of wine and honey mixed, with added store Of opium; to his keeper this he brought, Who swallowed unaware the sleepy draught, And snored secure till morn, his senses bound In slumber, and in long oblivion drowned.

Short was the night, and careful Palamon Sought the next covert ere the rising sun.

A thick-spread forest near the city lay, To this with lengthened strides he took his way, (For far he could not fly, and feared the day.)

Safe from pursuit, he meant to shun the light, Till the brown shadows of the friendly night To Thebes might favour his intended flight.

When to his country come, his next design Was all the Theban race in arms to join, And war on Theseus, till he lost his life, Or won the beauteous Emily to wife.

Thus while his thoughts the lingering day beguile, To gentle Arcite let us turn our style; Who little dreamt how nigh he was to care, Till treacherous fortune caught him in the snare.

The morning-lark, the messenger of day, Saluted in her song the morning gray; And soon the sun arose with beams so bright, That all the horizon laughed to see the joyous sight; He with his tepid rays the rose renews, And licks the dropping leaves, and dries the dews; When Arcite left his bed, resolved to pay Observance to the month of merry May, Forth on his fiery steed betimes he rode, That scarcely prints the turf on which he trod: At ease he seemed, and prancing o'er the plains, Turned only to the grove his horse's reins, The grove I named before, and, lighting there, A woodbind garland sought to crown his hair; Then turned his face against the rising day, And raised his voice to welcome in the May: "For thee, sweet month, the groves green liveries wear, If not the first, the fairest of the year: For thee the Graces lead the dancing hours, And Nature's ready pencil paints the flowers: When thy short reign is past, the feverish sun The sultry tropic fears, and moves more slowly on.

So may thy tender blossoms fear no blight, Nor goats with venomed teeth thy tendrils bite, As thou shalt guide my wandering feet to find The fragrant greens I seek, my brows to bind."

His vows addressed, within the grove he strayed, Till Fate or Fortune near the place conveyed His steps where secret Palamon was laid.

Full little thought of him the gentle knight, Who flying death had there concealed his flight, In brakes and brambles hid, and shunning mortal sight; And less he knew him for his hated foe, But feared him as a man he did not know.

But as it has been said of ancient years, That fields are full of eyes and woods have ears, For this the wise are ever on their guard, For unforeseen, they say, is unprepared.

Uncautious Arcite thought himself alone, And less than all suspected Palamon, Who, listening, heard him, while he searched the grove, And loudly sung his roundelay of love: But on the sudden stopped, and silent stood, (As lovers often muse, and change their mood;) Now high as heaven, and then as low as h.e.l.l, Now up, now down, as buckets in a well: For Venus, like her day, will change her cheer, And seldom shall we see a Friday clear.

Thus Arcite, having sung, with altered hue Sunk on the ground, and from his bosom drew A desperate sigh, accusing Heaven and Fate, And angry Juno's unrelenting hate: "Cursed be the day when first I did appear; Let it be blotted from the calendar, Lest it pollute the month, and poison all the year.

Still will the jealous Queen pursue our race?

Cadmus is dead, the Theban city was: Yet ceases not her hate; for all who come From Cadmus are involved in Cadmus' doom.

I suffer for my blood: unjust decree, That punishes another's crime on me.

In mean estate I serve my mortal foe, The man who caused my country's overthrow.

This is not all; for Juno, to my shame, Has forced me to forsake my former name; Arcite I was, Philostratus I am.

That side of heaven is all my enemy: Mars ruined Thebes; his mother ruined me.

Of all the royal race remains but one Besides myself, the unhappy Palamon, Whom Theseus holds in bonds and will not free; Without a crime, except his kin to me.

Yet these and all the rest I could endure; But love's a malady without a cure: Fierce Love has pierced me with his fiery dart, He fires within, and hisses at my heart.

Your eyes, fair Emily, my fate pursue; I suffer for the rest, I die for you.

Of such a G.o.ddess no time leaves record, Who burned the temple where she was adored: And let it burn, I never will complain, Pleased with my sufferings, if you knew my pain."

At this a sickly qualm his heart a.s.sailed, His ears ring inward, and his senses failed.

No word missed Palamon of all he spoke; But soon to deadly pale he changed his look: He trembled every limb, and felt a smart, As if cold steel had glided through his heart; Nor longer stayed, but starting from his place, Discovered stood, and showed his hostile face: "False traitor, Arcite, traitor to thy blood, Bound by thy sacred oath to seek my good, Now art thou found forsworn for Emily, And darest attempt her love, for whom I die.

So hast thou cheated Theseus with a wile, Against thy vow, returning to beguile Under a borrowed name: as false to me, So false thou art to him who set thee free.

But rest a.s.sured, that either thou shalt die, Or else renounce thy claim in Emily; For, though unarmed I am, and freed by chance, Am here without my sword or pointed lance, Hope not, base man, unquestioned hence to go, For I am Palamon, thy mortal foe."

Arcite, who heard his tale and knew the man, His sword unsheathed, and fiercely thus began: "Now, by the G.o.ds who govern heaven above, Wert thou not weak with hunger, mad with love, That word had been thy last; or in this grove This hand should force thee to renounce thy love; The surety which I gave thee I defy: Fool, not to know that love endures no tie, And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury.

Know, I will serve the fair in thy despite: But since thou art my kinsman and a knight, Here, have my faith, to-morrow in this grove Our arms shall plead the t.i.tles of our love: And Heaven so help my right, as I alone Will come, and keep the cause and quarrel both unknown, With arms of proof both for myself and thee; Choose thou the best, and leave the worst to me.

And, that at better ease thou mayest abide, Bedding and clothes I will this night provide, And needful sustenance, that thou mayest be A conquest better won, and worthy me."

His promise Palamon accepts; but prayed, To keep it better than the first he made.

Thus fair they parted till the morrow's dawn; For each had laid his plighted faith to p.a.w.n; Oh Love! thou sternly dost thy power maintain, And wilt not bear a rival in thy reign!

Tyrants and thou all fellows.h.i.+p disdain.

This was in Arcite proved and Palamon: Both in despair, yet each would love alone.

Arcite returned, and, as in honour tied, His foe with bedding and with food supplied; Then, ere the day, two suits of armour sought, Which borne before him on his steed he brought: Both were of s.h.i.+ning steel, and wrought so pure As might the strokes of two such arms endure.

Now, at the time, and in the appointed place, The challenger and challenged, face to face, Approach; each other from afar they knew, And from afar their hatred changed their hue.

So stands the Thracian herdsman with his spear, Full in the gap, and hopes the hunted bear, And hears him rustling in the wood, and sees His course at distance by the bending trees: And thinks, Here comes my mortal enemy, And either he must fall in fight, or I: This while he thinks, he lifts aloft his dart; A generous chillness seizes every part, The veins pour back the blood, and fortify the heart.

Thus pale they meet; their eyes with fury burn; None greets, for none the greeting will return; But in dumb surliness each armed with care His foe professed, as brother of the war; Then both, no moment lost, at once advance Against each other, armed with sword and lance: They lash, they foin, they pa.s.s, they strive to bore Their corslets, and the thinnest parts explore.

Thus two long hours in equal arms they stood, And wounded wound, till both are bathed in blood And not a foot of ground had either got, As if the world depended on the spot.

Fell Arcite like an angry tiger fared, And like a lion Palamon appeared: Or, as two boars whom love to battle draws, With rising bristles and with frothy jaws, Their adverse b.r.e.a.s.t.s with tusks oblique they wound With grunts and groans the forest rings around.

So fought the knights, and fighting must abide, Till Fate an umpire sends their difference to decide.

The power that ministers to G.o.d's decrees, And executes on earth what Heaven foresees, Called Providence, or Chance, or Fatal sway, Comes with resistless force, and finds or makes her way.

Nor kings, nor nations, nor united power One moment can r.e.t.a.r.d the appointed hour, And some one day, some wondrous chance appears, Which happened not in centuries of years: For sure, whate'er we mortals hate or love Or hope or fear depends on powers above: They move our appet.i.tes to good or ill, And by foresight necessitate the will.

In Theseus this appears, whose youthful joy Was beasts of chase in forests to destroy; This gentle knight, inspired by jolly May, Forsook his easy couch at early day, And to the wood and wilds pursued his way.

Beside him rode Hippolita the queen, And Emily attired in lively green, With horns and hounds and all the tuneful cry, To hunt a royal hart within the covert nigh: And, as he followed Mars before, so now He serves the G.o.ddess of the silver bow.

The way that Theseus took was to the wood, Where the two knights in cruel battle stood: The laund on which they fought, the appointed place In which the uncoupled hounds began the chase.

Thither forth-right he rode to rouse the prey, That shaded by the fern in harbour lay; And thence dislodged, was wont to leave the wood For open fields, and cross the crystal flood.

Approached, and looking underneath the sun, He saw proud Arcite and fierce Palamon, In mortal battle doubling blow on blow; Like lightning flamed their fauchions to and fro, And shot a dreadful gleam; so strong they strook, There seemed less force required to fell an oak.

He gazed with wonder on their equal might, Looked eager on, but knew not either knight.

Resolved to learn, he spurred his fiery steed With goring rowels to provoke his speed.

The minute ended that began the race, So soon he was betwixt them on the place; And with his sword unsheathed, on pain of life Commands both combatants to cease their strife; Then with imperious tone pursues his threat: "What are you? why in arms together met?

How dares your pride presume against my laws, As in a listed field to fight your cause, Unasked the royal grant; no marshal by, As knightly rites require, nor judge to try?"

Then Palamon, with scarce recovered breath, Thus hasty spoke: "We both deserve the death, And both would die; for look the world around, And pity soonest runs in gentle minds; Then reasons with himself; and first he finds His pa.s.sion cast a mist before his sense, And either made or magnified the offence.

Offence? Of what? To whom? Who judged the cause?

The prisoner freed himself by Nature's laws; Born free, he sought his right; the man he freed Was perjured, but his love excused the deed: Thus pondering, he looked under with his eyes, And saw the women's tears, and heard their cries, Which moved compa.s.sion more; he shook his head, And softly sighing to himself he said:

Curse on the unpardoning prince, whom tears can draw "To no remorse, who rules by lion's law; And deaf to prayers, by no submission bowed, Rends all alike, the penitent and proud!"

At this with look serene he raised his head; Reason resumed her place, and pa.s.sion fled: Then thus aloud he spoke:--" The power of Love, "In earth, and seas, and air, and heaven above, Rules, unresisted, with an awful nod, By daily miracles declared a G.o.d; He blinds the wise, gives eye-sight to the blind; And moulds and stamps anew the lover's mind.

Behold that Arcite, and this Palamon, Freed from my fetters, and in safety gone, What hindered either in their native soil At ease to reap the harvest of their toil?

But Love, their lord, did otherwise ordain, And brought them, in their own despite again, To suffer death deserved; for well they know 'Tis in my power, and I their deadly foe.

The proverb holds, that to be wise and love, Is hardly granted to the G.o.ds above.

See how the madmen bleed! behold the gains With which their master, Love, rewards their pains!

For seven long years, on duty every day, Lo! their obedience, and their monarch's pay!

Yet, as in duty bound, they serve him on; And ask the fools, they think it wisely done; Nor ease nor wealth nor life it self regard, For 'tis their maxim, love is love's reward.

This is not all; the fair, for whom they strove, Nor knew before, nor could suspect their love, Nor thought, when she beheld the fight from far, Her beauty was the occasion of the war.

But sure a general doom on man is past, And all are fools and lovers, first or last: This both by others and my self I know, For I have served their sovereign long ago; Oft have been caught within the winding train Of female snares, and felt the lover's pain, And learned how far the G.o.d can human hearts constrain.

To this remembrance, and the prayers of those Who for the offending warriors interpose, I give their forfeit lives, on this accord, To do me homage as their sovereign lord; And as my va.s.sals, to their utmost might, a.s.sist my person and a.s.sert my right."

This freely sworn, the knights their grace obtained; Then thus the King his secret thought explained: "If wealth or honour or a royal race, Or each or all, may win a lady's grace, Then either of you knights may well deserve A princess born; and such is she you serve: For Emily is sister to the crown, And but too well to both her beauty known: But should you combat till you both were dead, Two lovers cannot share a single bed As, therefore, both are equal in degree, The lot of both be left to destiny.

Now hear the award, and happy may it prove To her, and him who best deserves her love.

Depart from hence in peace, and free as air, Search the wide world, and where you please repair; But on the day when this returning sun To the same point through every sign has run, Then each of you his hundred knights shall bring In royal lists, to fight before the king; And then the knight, whom Fate or happy Chance Shall with his friends to victory advance, And grace his arms so far in equal fight, From out the bars to force his opposite, Or kill, or make him recreant on the plain, The prize of valour and of love shall gain; The vanquished party shall their claim release, And the long jars conclude in lasting peace.

The charge be mine to adorn the chosen ground, The theatre of war, for champions so renowned; And take the patron's place of either knight, With eyes impartial to behold the fight; And Heaven of me so judge as I shall judge aright.

If both are satisfied with this accord, Swear by the laws of knighthood on my sword."

Who now but Palamon exults with joy?

And ravished Arcite seems to touch the sky.

The whole a.s.sembled troop was pleased as well, Extolled the award, and on their knees they fell To bless the gracious King. The knights, with leave Departing from the place, his last commands receive; On Emily with equal ardour look, And from her eyes their inspiration took: From thence to Thebes' old walls pursue their way, Each to provide his champions for the day.

It might be deemed, on our historian's part, Or too much negligence or want of art, If he forgot the vast magnificence Of royal Theseus, and his large expense.

He first enclosed for lists a level ground, The whole circ.u.mference a mile around; The form was circular; and all without A trench was sunk, to moat the place about.

Within, an amphitheatre appeared, Raised in degrees, to sixty paces reared: That when a man was placed in one degree, Height was allowed for him above to see.

Eastward was built a gate of marble white; The like adorned the western opposite.

A n.o.bler object than this fabric was Rome never saw, nor of so vast a s.p.a.ce: For, rich with spoils of many a conquered land, All arts and artists Theseus could command, Who sold for hire, or wrought for better fame; The master-painters and the carvers came.

So rose within the compa.s.s of the year An age's work, a glorious theatre.

Then o'er its eastern gate was raised above A temple, sacred to the Queen of Love; An altar stood below; on either hand A priest with roses crowned, who held a myrtle wand.

The dome of Mars was on the gate opposed, And on the north a turret was enclosed Within the wall of alabaster white And crimson coral, for the Queen of Night, Who takes in sylvan sports her chaste delight.