So Arcite became a free man, but he was banished the kingdom. How unhappy then Arcite was! He felt that he was worse off than ever. “Oh, how I wish I had never known Perithous!” cried he. “Far rather would I be back in Theseus’ prison, for _then_ I could see the beautiful lady I love.” O dere cosyn Palamon, quod he, Thyn is the victorie of this aventure, thine, chance Ful blisfully in prisoun maistow dure; may’st thou endure In prisoun? certes nay, but in paradys! Wel hath fortune y-torned the the dys. thee “O my dear cousin, Palamon,” cried he, “In this ill hap the gain is on thy side. Thou blissful in thy prison may’st abide! In prison? truly nay--but in paradise! Kindly toward thee hath fortune turn’d the dice.” So Arcite mourned ever, because he was far away from Athens where the beautiful lady dwelt, and was always thinking that perhaps Palamon would get pardoned, and marry the lady, while he would never see her any more. But Palamon, on the other hand, was so unhappy when his companion was taken away, that he wept till the great tower resounded, and his very fetters were wet with his tears. “Alas, my dear cousin,” he sighed, “the fruit of all our strife is thine!--You walk free in Thebes, and think little enough of my woe, I daresay. You will perhaps gather a great army and make war on this country, and get the beautiful lady to wife whom I love so much! while I die by inches in my cage.” And with that his jealousy started up like a fire within him, so that he was nigh mad, and pale as ashes. “O cruel gods!” he cried, “that govern the world with your eternal laws, how is man better than a sheep lying in the fold? For, like any other beast, man dies, or lives in prison, or is sick, or unfortunate, and often is quite guiltless all the while. And when a beast is dead, it has no pain further; but man may suffer after death, as well as in this world.” Now I will leave Palamon, and tell you more of Arcite. Arcite, in Thebes, fell into such excessive sorrow for the loss of the beautiful lady that there never was a creature so sad before or since. He ceased to eat and drink, and sleep, and grew as thin and dry as an arrow. His eyes were hollow and dreadful to behold, and he lived always alone, mourning and lamenting night and day. He was so changed that no one could recognize his voice nor his look. Altogether he was the saddest picture of a man that ever was seen--except Palamon. One night he had a dream. He dreamed that the winged god Mercury stood before him, bidding him be merry; and commanded him to go to Athens, where all his misery should end. Arcite sprang up, and said, “I will go straight to Athens. Nor will I spare to see my lady through fear of death--in her presence I am ready even to die!”