As Palamon lay beside a bush in the grove, he watched the sunbeams drying up the dew drops on the leaves and flowers near him, and listened to the joyous song of a lark that poured forth its welcome to the morning.

The same lark that Palamon heard awakened Arcite.  He was now the chief knight in the Duke’s house, and served him with honor in peace and war.  He sprang up and looked out on the fresh green fields.  Everything called to him to come out.  He loosed his horse from the stall and galloped over hill and dale.  He came to the edge of a grove, and tied up his steed to a tree.  Then he wandered down a woodland path to gather honeysuckle and hawthorn to weave a garland for himself.  Little he thought of the snare into which he was walking.  As he roamed he sang—­

  “O May, of every month the queen,
  With thy sweet flowers and forests green,
  Right welcome be thou, fair fresh May.”

The grove was the one in which Palamon lay beside a pool of water.  When he heard the song of Arcite, cold fear took hold on him.  He did not know that it was Arcite who sang, but he knew that the horse must belong to a knight of the court, and he crouched down to the ground lest he should be seen and taken back to prison.

Soon Arcite’s joyous mood passed away, and he grew sorrowful.  He sighed and threw himself down not far from the spot where Palamon lay.

“Alas, alas!” said Arcite, “for the royal blood of Thebes!  Alas that I should humbly serve my mortal enemy!  Alas that I dare not claim my noble name, but must be known, forsooth, as Philostrate, a name worth not a straw!  Of all our princely house not one is left save only me and Palamon, whom Theseus slays in prison.  Even I, free though I am, am helpless to win Emelia.  What am I to her but an humble squire?”

Palamon was so angry when he heard this, that he forgot his own danger.  He started out from his hiding-place and faced Arcite.

“False Arcite,” he cried, “now art thou caught indeed!  Thou hast deceived Duke Theseus and hast falsely changed thy name, hast thou?  Then surely I or thou must die.  I will suffer no man to love my lady, save myself alone.  For I am Palamon, thy mortal foe.  I have no weapon in this place, for only last night did I escape from prison.  Yet I fear thee not.  Thou shalt die, or thou shalt cease to love my lady.  Choose as thou wilt!”

Then Arcite rose up in his wrath and drew his sword.  He said, “Were it not that thou art ill and mad with grief, and that thou hast no weapon here, thou shouldest never step from where thou standest.  I deny the bond thou claimest!  Fool! how can I help thee to win the lady I fain would wed myself?  But because thou art a worthy knight and a gentle, and art ready to fight for thy lady, accept my promise.  To-morrow I will not fail to wait for thee here without the knowledge of any other.  Also I will bring armor and weapons for thee and me, and thou shalt choose of them what thou wilt, ere I arm myself!  Food and drink will I bring to thee this night into the grove.  If so be that thou slay me here to-morrow, then indeed thou mayest win thy lady if thou canst!”