Daugh. By my troth, I think Fame but stammers 'em, they
Stand a grief above the reach of report.
Jail. I heard them reported in the battel, to be the only doers.
Daugh. Nay, most likely, for they are noble sufferers; I
Marvel how they would have look'd, 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.
Jail. Doe they so?
Daugh. It seems to me, they have no more sence 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, martyr'd 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 my self a sigh to be so chid,
Or at least a sigher to be comforted.
Wooer. I never saw 'em.
Jail. The Duke himself came privately in the night.
Enter Palamon, and Arcite above.
And so did they, what the reason of it is, I
Know not: Look, yonder they are; that's
Arcite looks out.
Daugh. No Sir, no, that's Palamon: Arcite is the
Lower of the twain; you may perceive a part
Of him.