Nor hopes the captive lord his liberty: 'Tis hard to say who suffers greater pains; One sees his love, but cannot break his chains; One free, and all his motions uncontrouled, Beholds whate'er he would, but what he would behold.[149] Judge as you please, for I will haste to tell What fortune to the banished knight befel. When Arcite was to Thebes returned again, The loss of her he loved renewed his pain; What could be worse, than never more to see His life, his soul, his charming Emily? He raved with all the madness of despair, He roared, he beat his breast, he tore his hair. Dry sorrow in his stupid eyes appears, For, wanting nourishment, he wanted tears: His eye-balls in their hollow sockets sink, Bereft of sleep; he loaths his meat and drink. He withers at his heart, and looks as wan As the pale spectre of a murdered man: That pale turns yellow, and his face receives The faded hue of sapless boxen leaves: In solitary groves he makes his moan, Walks early out, and ever is alone: Nor, mixed in mirth, in youthful pleasures shares, But sighs when songs and instruments he hears. His spirits are so low, his voice is drowned; } He hears as from afar, or in a swoon, } Like the deaf murmurs of a distant sound: } Uncombed his locks, and squalid his attire, Unlike the trim of love and gay desire; But full of museful mopings, which presage The loss of reason, and conclude in rage. This when he had endured a year and more, Now wholly changed from what he was before, It happened once, that, slumbering as he lay, He dreamed, (his dream began at break of day,) That Hermes o'er his head in air appeared, And with soft words his drooping spirits cheered: His hat, adorned with wings, disclosed the God, And in his hand he bore the sleep-compelling rod; Such as he seemed, when, at his sire's command, On Argus' head he laid the snaky wand. Arise, he said, to conquering Athens go, There fate appoints an end of all thy woe.--[150] The fright awakened Arcite with a start, Against his bosom bounced his heaving heart; But soon he said, with scarce-recovered breath, And thither will I go, to meet my death, Sure to be slain; but death is my desire, Since in Emilia's sight I shall expire.-- By chance he spied a mirror while he spoke, And gazing there beheld his altered look; Wondering, he saw his features and his hue So much were changed, that scarce himself he knew. A sudden thought then starting in his mind,-- Since I in Arcite cannot Arcite find, The world may search in vain with all their eyes, But never penetrate through this disguise. Thanks to the change which grief and sickness give, In low estate I may securely live, And see, unknown, my mistress day by day.-- He said, and clothed himself in coarse array; A labouring hind in shew: then forth he went, And to the Athenian towers his journey bent: