And howling at their husbands' obsequies; How Theseus at these funerals did assist, And with what gifts the mourning dames dismissed. Thus when the victor chief had Creon slain, And conquered Thebes, he pitched upon the plain His mighty camp, and when the day returned, The country wasted and the hamlets burned, And left the pillagers, to rapine bred, Without control to strip and spoil the dead. There, in a heap of slain, among the rest Two youthful knights they found beneath a load oppressed Of slaughtered foes, whom first to death they sent, The trophies of their strength, a bloody monument. Both fair, and both of royal blood they seemed, Whom kinsmen to the crown the heralds deemed; That day in equal arms they fought for fame; Their swords, their shields, their surcoats were the same: Close by each other laid they pressed the ground, Their manly bosoms pierced with many a grisly wound; Nor well alive nor wholly dead they were, But some faint signs of feeble life appear; The wandering breath was on the wing to part, Weak was the pulse, and hardly heaved the heart. These two were sisters' sons; and Arcite one, Much famed in fields, with valiant Palamon. From these their costly arms the spoilers rent, And softly both conveyed to Theseus' tent: Whom, known of Creon's line and cured with care, He to his city sent as prisoners of the war; Hopeless of ransom, and condemned to lie In durance, doomed a lingering death to die. This done, he marched away with warlike sound, And to his Athens turned with laurels crowned, Where happy long he lived, much loved, and more renowned. But in a tower, and never to be loosed, The woful captive kinsmen are enclosed. Thus year by year they pass, and day by day, Till once ('twas on the morn of cheerful May) The young Emilia, fairer to be seen Than the fair lily on the flowery green, More fresh than May herself in blossoms new, (For with the rosy colour strove her hue,) Waked, as her custom was, before the day, To do the observance due to sprightly May; For sprightly May commands our youth to keep The vigils of her night, and breaks their sluggard sleep; Each gentle breast with kindly warmth she moves; Inspires new flames, revives extinguished loves. In this remembrance Emily ere day Arose, and dressed herself in rich array; Fresh as the month, and as the morning fair, Adown her shoulders fell her length of hair: A ribband did the braided tresses bind, The rest was loose, and wantoned in the wind: Aurora had but newly chased the night, And purpled o'er the sky with blushing light, When to the garden-walk she took her way, To sport and trip along in cool of day, And offer maiden vows in honour of the May. 190 At every turn she made a little stand, And thrust among the thorns her lily hand To draw the rose; and every rose she drew, She shook the stalk, and brushed away the dew;