IAILOR.
Doe they so?
DAUGHTER.
It seemes to me they have no more sence of their Captivity, then
I
of ruling Athens: they eate well, looke merrily, discourse of
many
things, but nothing of their owne restraint, and disasters: yet
sometime a devided sigh, martyrd as 'twer i'th deliverance, will
breake from one of them; when the other presently gives it so
sweete
a rebuke, that I could wish my selfe a Sigh to be so chid, or at
least a Sigher to be comforted.
WOOER.
I never saw 'em.
IAILOR.
The Duke himselfe came privately in the night,
[Enter Palamon, and Arcite, above.]
and so did they: what the reason of it is, I know not: Looke,
yonder
they are! that's Arcite lookes out.
DAUGHTER.
No, Sir, no, that's Palamon: Arcite is the lower of the twaine;
you
may perceive a part of him.
IAILOR.
Goe too, leave your pointing; they would not make us their
object;
out of their sight.
DAUGHTER.
It is a holliday to looke on them: Lord, the diffrence of men!
[Exeunt.]
Scaena 2. (The prison)
[Enter Palamon, and Arcite in prison.]
PALAMON.
How doe you, Noble Cosen?
ARCITE.
How doe you, Sir?
PALAMON.
Why strong inough to laugh at misery,
And beare the chance of warre, yet we are prisoners,
I feare, for ever, Cosen.
ARCITE.
I beleeve it,
And to that destiny have patiently
Laide up my houre to come.
PALAMON.
O Cosen Arcite,
Where is Thebs now? where is our noble Country?
Where are our friends, and kindreds? never more
Must we behold those comforts, never see
The hardy youthes strive for the Games of honour
(Hung with the painted favours of their Ladies,
Like tall Ships under saile) then start among'st 'em
And as an Eastwind leave 'en all behinde us,
Like lazy Clowdes, whilst Palamon and Arcite,
Even in the wagging of a wanton leg
Out-stript the peoples praises, won the Garlands,
Ere they have time to wish 'em ours.
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