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 assembled 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 circumference 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 nobler object than this fabric was Rome never saw, nor of so vast a space: 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 compass 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.