For many a day they were shut up in a room in a high tower overlooking Theseus’ garden.  Very woeful were they, until one May morning Palamon looked through his barred window and saw a lovely maid walking in the garden below.  It was early morning, with the dew still on the flowers and the first beams of the sun glistening on all things.  The maid was as fair as the flowers that she gathered to make her garland.  Her hair was golden and hung in a long plait, and the blossoms she gathered for her garland were red and white.  For very joy she sang so sweet a song that Palamon beholding her loved her with all his heart, yet thought she was too beautiful to be a maid of earth.  He looked long, and sighed, “O goddess, if thou wilt but help me to be free, I will be always thy trusty servant.”  Hearing him thus speak, Arcite also looked out, and he too at once loved the wondrous beauty of the maid.  “May I die unless I have her,” he said, and sighed too.  At this Palamon was angry.  “Traitor,” he said, “do you now break the vow we made each other long ago—­never to betray each other, and never to cross each other in love?  I saw and loved the maid first.  She must be mine.”

“No,” answered Arcite.  “You thought she was a goddess; I loved her first as a woman.  She must be mine.” So they fell to quarrelling loudly and cruelly.  At last Arcite said, “We waste our time to quarrel thus.  Neither of us can ever win her.  Poor prisoners we are, and doomed to die here without a thought from happier men.  Some rich lord will carry her away.  Ours she cannot be.”  And they were very sad.

Now it chanced that a certain duke who was a friend of Arcite came to visit Theseus, and persuaded him to set young Arcite free.  Theseus did so, but only on condition that Arcite should leave Athens for ever.  “If from this time forth you are found in this land,” he said, “your head will be forfeit.”  So Arcite went to Thebes, very heavy-hearted, because although he was now free, he might never more see the maid of the garden.  Palamon’s case was equally hard, for although he might see his beloved, never might he speak to her nor woo her, for he must remain a poor neglected prisoner, high up in the castle tower.  Now tell me, you lovers, if you can, whose lot was the worse?  Is it better to be free and never see one’s lady, or to be a prisoner and see her every day?—­Judge for yourselves.  I must go on with my story.

Arcite lived in Thebes, so sorrowfully that he fell a-weeping whenever music was played, and soon grief had so changed his countenance that no man would have recognised him.  At last he could bear this state no longer, but made up his mind to go to Athens, and there seek his lady.  He came therefore to the palace of Theseus and hired himself as a servant.  He was strong and able to draw water and hew wood.  In course of time he was made a chamberlain, and at length, since he was always mannerly and courteous and obedient, Theseus promoted him, and he became a squire and one of his best beloved followers.