And, watchful all advantages to fpy,
Was ftill at hand, and in his master's eye;
And as his bones were big, and finews ftrong,
Refus'd no toil that could to flaves belong; 586
But from deep wells with engines water drew,
And us'd his noble hands the wood to hew.
He pafs'd a year at least attending thus
On Emily, and call'd Philoftratus.
But never was there man of his degree
So much esteem'd, fo well belov'd as he.
So gentle of condition was he known,
That through the court his courtesy was blown:
All think him worthy of a greater place,
And recommend him to the royal grace;
That exercis'd within a higher sphere,
His virtues more confpicuous might appear.
Thus by the general voice was Arcite prais'd,
And by great Thefeus to high favour rais'd ; 600
Among his menial fervants first enroll'd,
And largely entertain'd with fums of gold:
Befides what fecretly from Thebes was sent,
Of his own income, and his annual rent:
This well employ'd, he purchas'd friends and
But cautiously conceal'd from whence it came. Thus for three years he liv'd with large in
In arms of honour, and esteem in peace;
To Thefeus' perfon he was ever near ;
And Thefeus for his virtues held him dear. 610
Ver. 610. And Thefeus &c.] Palamon and Arcyte, a comedy, was acted before queen Elizabeth in Chrift Church Hall at Oxford, 1566, with which the queen appeared to be much delighted, and promised to reward the author, Richard Edwards, for his pains. His poems are printed in the paradife of dainty Devifes. London, quarto, 1578.
WHILE Arcite lives in blifs, the story turns
Where hopeless Palamon in prifon mourns.
For fix long years immur'd, the captive knight
Had dragg'd his chains, and scarcely feen the
Loft liberty and love at once he bore:
His prifon pain'd him much, his paffion more:
Nor dares he hope his fetters to remove,
Nor ever wishes to be free from love.
But when the fixth revolving year was run,
And May within the Twins receiv'd the fun, 620
Were it by chance, or forceful destiny,
Which forms in caufes firft whate'er fhall be,
Affifted by a friend, one moonless night,
This Palamon from prifon took his flight:
A pleasant beverage he prepar'd before
Of wine and honey mix'd with added store
Of opium; to his keeper this he brought,
Who fwallow'd unaware the fleepy draught,
And fnor'd fecure till morn, his fenfes bound
In flumber, and in long oblivion drown'd.
Short was the night, and careful Palamon
Sought the next covert e'er the rifing fun.
A thick-fpread foreft near the city lay,
To this with lengthen'd ftrides he took his
(For far he could not fly, and fear'd the day.)
Safe from purfuit, he meant to shun the light,
Till the brown fhadows of the friendly night
To Thebes might ́favour his intended flight.
When to his country come, his next design
Was all the Theban race in arms to join,
And war on Thefeus, till he loft his life,
Or won the beauteous Emily to wife.
Thus while his thoughts the lingering day be-
guile,
To gentle Arcite let us turn our ftile ;
Who little dreamt how nigh he was to care, 645
Till treacherous fortune caught him in the snare.
The morning lark, the meffenger of day,
Saluted in her fong the morning gray;
And foon the fun arose with beams fo bright,
That all the horizon laugh'd to fee the joyous
He with his tepid rays the rofe renews,
And licks the drooping leaves, and dries the
When Arcite left his bed, refolv'd to pay
Obfervance to the month of merry May:
Forth on his fiery steed betimes he rode,
That scarcely prints the turf on which he trod:
At ease he seem'd, and, prancing o'er the plains,
Turn'd only to the grove his horfe's reins,
The grove
I nam'd before; and, lighted there,
A woodbine garland fought to crown his hair;
Then turn'd his face against the rifing day, 661
And rais'd his voice to welcome in the May.
For thee, fweet month, the groves green
liveries wear,
If not the firft, the fairest of the year:
For thee the Graces lead the dancing hours, 665
And Nature's ready pencil paints the flowers:
When thy fhort reign is past, the feverish fun
The fultry tropic fears, and moves more flowly
So may thy tender bloffoms fear no blight, 669 Nor goats with venom'd teeth thy tendrils bite, As thou shalt guide my wandring feet to find The fragrant greens I feek, my brows to bind. His vows addrefs'd, within the grove he ftray'd,
Till fate, or fortune, near the place convey'd His fteps where fecret Palamon was laid. 675
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