So when a tiger sucks the bullock's blood, A famished lion issuing from the wood Roars lordly fierce, and challenges the food. Each claims possession, neither will obey, But both their paws are fastened on the prey; They bite, they tear; and while in vain they strive, The swains come armed between, and both to distance drive. At length, as Fate foredoomed, and all things tend By course of time to their appointed end; So when the sun to west was far declined, And both afresh in mortal battle joined, The strong Emetrius came in Arcite's aid, And Palamon with odds was overlaid: For, turning short, he struck with all his might Full on the helmet of the unwary knight. Deep was the wound; he staggered with the blow, And turned him to his unexpected foe; Whom with such force he struck, he felled him down, And cleft the circle of his golden crown. But Arcite's men, who now prevailed in fight, Twice ten at once surround the single knight: O'erpowered at length, they force him to the ground, Unyielded as he was, and to the pillar bound; And king Lycurgus, while he fought in vain His friend to free, was tumbled on the plain. Who now laments but Palamon, compelled No more to try the fortune of the field, And, worse than death, to view with hateful eyes His rival's conquest, and renounce the prize! The royal judge on his tribunal placed, Who had beheld the fight from first to last, Bade cease the war; pronouncing from on high, Arcite of Thebes had won the beauteous Emily. The sound of trumpets to the voice replied, And round the royal lists the heralds cried, "Arcite of Thebes has won the beauteous bride!" The people rend the skies with vast applause; All own the chief, when Fortune owns the cause. Arcite is owned even by the gods above, And conquering Mars insults the Queen of Love. So laughed he when the rightful Titan failed, And Jove's usurping arms in heaven prevailed. Laughed all the powers who favour tyranny, And all the standing army of the sky. But Venus with dejected eyes appears. And weeping on the lists distilled her tears; Her will refused, which grieves a woman most, And, in her champion foiled, the cause of Love is lost. Till Saturn said:--"Fair daughter, now be still, "The blustering fool has satisfied his will; His boon is given; his knight has gained the day, But lost the prize; the arrears are yet to pay. Thy hour is come, and mine the care shall be To please thy knight, and set thy promise free."