JAILER Well, we will talk more of this when the solemnity is past. But have you a full promise of her?

Enter the Jailer’s Daughter with rushes

When that shall be seen, I tender my consent.

WOOER I have, sir. Here she comes.

JAILER (to Daughter) Your friend and I have chanced to name you here, upon the old business—but no more of that now. So soon as the court hurry is over we will have an end of it. I’th’ mean time, look tenderly to the two prisoners. I can tell you they are princes.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER These strewings are for their chamber. ’Tis pity they are in prison, and ’twere pity they should be out. I do think they have patience to make any adversity ashamed; the prison itself is proud of ’em, and they have all the world in their chamber.

JAILER They are famed to be a pair of absolute men.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER By my troth, I think fame but stammers ’em—they stand a grece above the reach of report.

JAILER I heard them reported in the battle to be the only doers.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER Nay, most likely, for they are noble sufferers. I marvel how they would have looked had they been victors, that with such a constant nobility enforce a freedom out of bondage, making misery their mirth, and affliction a toy to jest at.

JAILER Do they so?

JAILER’S DAUGHTER It seems to me they have no more sense of their captivity than I of ruling Athens. They eat well, look merrily, discourse of many things, but nothing of their own restraint and disasters. Yet sometime a divided sigh—martyred as ’twere i’th’ deliverance—will break from one of them, when the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke that I could wish myself a sigh to be so chid, or at least a sigher to be comforted.

WOOER I never saw ’em.

JAILER The Duke himself came privately in the night,

Palamon and Arcite appear ⌈at a window⌉ above

and so did they. What the reason of it is I know not. Look, yonder they are. That’s Arcite looks out.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER No, sir, no—that’s Palamon. Arcite is the lower of the twain—(pointing at Arcite) you may perceive a part of him.

JAILER Go to, leave your pointing. They would not make us their object. Out of their sight.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER It is a holiday to look on them. Lord, the difference of men!

Exeunt

2.2 Enter Palamon and Arcite in prison, ⌈in shackles, above⌉

PALAMON

How do you, noble cousin?

ARCITE How do you, sir?

PALAMON

Why, strong enough to laugh at misery

And bear the chance of war. Yet we are prisoners,

I fear, for ever, cousin.

ARCITE

I believe it, And to that destiny have patiently

Laid up my hour to come.

PALAMON

O, cousin Arcite, Where is Thebes now? Where is our noble country?

Where are our friends and kindreds? Never more

Must we behold those comforts, never see

The hardy youths strive for the games of honour,

Hung with the painted favours of their ladies,

Like tall ships under sail; then start amongst ’em

And, as an east wind, leave ’em all behind us,

Like lazy clouds, whilst Palamon and Arcite,

Even in the wagging of a wanton leg,

Outstripped the people’s praises, won the garlands

Ere they have time to wish ‘em ours. O never

Shall we two exercise, like twins of honour,

Our arms again and feel our fiery horses

Like proud seas under us. Our good swords, now—

Better the red-eyed god of war ne’er wore—

Ravished our sides, like age must run to rust

And deck the temples of those gods that hate us.

These hands shall never draw ’em out like lightning

To blast whole armies more.

ARCITE

No, Palamon, Those hopes are prisoners with us. Here we are,

And here the graces of our youths must wither,

Like a too-timely spring. Here age must find us

And, which is heaviest, Palamon, unmarried—

The sweet embraces of a loving wife

Loaden with kisses, armed with thousand Cupids,

Shall never clasp our necks; no issue know us;

No figures of ourselves shall we e’er see

To glad our age, and, like young eagles, teach ’em

Boldly to gaze against bright arms and say,

‘Remember what your fathers were, and conquer.’

The fair-eyed maids shall weep our banishments,

And in their songs curse ever-blinded fortune,

Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done

To youth and nature. This is all our world.

We shall know nothing here but one another,

Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes.

The vine shall grow, but we shall never see it;

Summer shall come, and with her all delights,

But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still.

PALAMON

’Tis too true, Arcite. To our Theban hounds

That shook the aged forest with their echoes,

No more now must we holler; no more shake

Our pointed javelins whilst the angry swine

Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,

Struck with our well-steeled darts. All valiant uses—

The food and nourishment of noble minds—

In us two here shall perish; we shall die—

Which is the curse of honour—lastly,

Children of grief and ignorance.

ARCITE

Yet, cousin, Even from the bottom of these miseries,

From all that fortune can inflict upon us,

I see two comforts rising—two mere blessings,

If the gods please, to hold here a brave patience

And the enjoying of our griefs together.

Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish

If I think this our prison.

PALAMON

Certainly ’Tis a main goodness, cousin, that our fortunes

Were twined together. ’Tis most true, two souls

Put in two noble bodies, let ’em suffer

The gall of hazard, so they grow together,