The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
it had forgot to open his mouth. This fight being the more cruel,
since both love and hatred conspired to sharpen their humours, that
hard it was to say whether love with one trumpet, or hatred with
another, gave the louder alarm to their courages. Spite, rage,
disdain, shame, revenge, came waiting upon hatred: of the other side
came with love, longing desire, both invincible hope, and fearless
despair, with rival-like jealousy, which, although brought up within
doors in the school of Cupid, should show themselves no less forward
than the other dusty band of Mars, to make themselves notable in the
notableness of this combat. Of either side confidence, unacquainted
with loss, but assuring trust to overcome, and good experience how to
overcome: now seconding their terrible blows with cunning labouring
the horses to win ground of the enemy; now unlooked-for parting one
from the other to win advantages by an advantageous return. But force
against force, skill against skill, so interchangeably encountered
that it was not easy to determine whether enterprising, or preventing
came former: both sometimes at one instant, doing and suffering wrong,
and choler no less rising of the doing than of the suffering. But as
the fire, the more fuel is put to it, the more hungry still it is to
devour more, so the more they struck, the more unsatisfied they were
with striking. Their very armour by piecemeal fell away from them; and
yet their flesh abode the wounds constantly, as though it were less
sensible of smart, than the senseless armour: their blood in most
places staining their black colour, as if it would give a more lively
colour of mourning than black can do. And so long a space they fought,
while neither virtue nor fortune seemed partial of either side: which
so tormented the unquiet heart of Amphialus, that he resolved to see a
quick end: and therefore with the violence of courage, adding strength
to his blow, he struck in such wise upon the side of the other’s head
that his remembrance left that battered lodging, so that he was quite
from himself, casting his {382} arms abroad, and ready to fall down;
his sword likewise went out of his hand, but that being fast by a
chain to his arm, he could not lose. And Amphialus used the favour of
occasion, redoubling his blows: but the horse, weary to be beaten, as
well as the master, carried his master away, till he came unto
himself. But then who could have seen him, might well have discerned
shame in his cheeks, and revenge in his eyes: so that setting his
teeth together with rage, he came running upon Amphialus, reaching out
his arm, which had gathered up his sword, meaning with that blow to
have cleaved Amphialus in two. But Amphialus, seeing the blow coming,
shunned it with nimble turning his horse aside; wherewith the forsaken
knight overstrake himself, so as almost he came down with his own
strength: but the more hungry of his purpose, the more he was barred
the food of it: disdaining the resistance, both of force and fortune,
he returned upon the spur again, and ran with such violence upon
Amphialus that his horse with the force of the shock rose up before,
almost overturned: which Amphialus perceiving, with rein and spur put
forth his horse, and withal gave a mighty blow in the descent of his
horse, upon the shoulder of the forsaken knight, from whence sliding,
it fell upon the neck of his horse, so as horse and man fell to the
ground: but he was scarce down before he was upon his feet again, with
brave gesture showing rising of courage, in the falling of fortune.
But the courteous Amphialus excused himself, for having, against his
will, killed his horse. “Excuse thyself for viler faults,” answered
the forsaken knight, “and use this poor advantage the best thou canst,
for thou shalt quickly find thou hast need of more.” “Thy folly,” said
Amphialus, “shall not make me forget myself:” and therefore, trotting
a little aside, alighted from his horse, because he would not have
fortune come to claim any part of the victory. Which courteous act
would have mollified the noble heart of the forsaken knight, if any
other had done it besides the jailor of his mistress; but that was a
sufficient defeasance of the firmest bond of good nature; and
therefore he was no sooner alighted but that he ran unto him,
re-entering into as cruel a fight as eye did ever see, or thought
could reasonably imagine; far beyond the reach of weak words to be
able to express it. For what they had done on horseback, was but a
morsel to keep their stomachs in appetite in comparison of that which
now (being themselves) they did. Nor ever glutton by the change of
dainty diet could be brought to fresh feeding, when he might have been
satisfied before, with more earnestness, than those, by the change of
their manner of fight, fell clean to a new fight, though any else
would have thought they had their fill already. Amphialus being the
taller man, for the most part stood with his right leg before, his
shield at the uttermost {383} length of his arm; his sword high, but
with the point towards his enemy. But when he struck, which came so
thick, as if every blow would strive to be foremost, his arm seemed
still a postilion of death. The forsaken knight showed with like
skill, unlike gesture, keeping himself in continual motion,
proportioning the distance between them to anything that Amphialus
attempted; his eye guided his foot, and his foot conveyed his hand;
and since nature had made him something the lower of the two, he made
art follow, and not strive with nature; shunning rather than warding
his blows; like a cunning mastiff who knows the sharpness of the horn
and strength of the bull, fights low to get his proper advantage;
answering mightiness with nimbleness, and yet at times employing his
wonderful force, wherein he was second to none. In sum, the blows were
strong, the thrusts thick, and the avoidings cunning. But the forsaken
knight, that thought it a degree of being conquered to be long in
conquering, struck him so mighty a blow, that he made Amphialus put
knee to the ground, without any humbleness. But when he felt himself
stricken down, and saw himself stricken down by his rival, then shame
seemed one arm, and disdain another; fury in his eyes, and revenge in
his heart; skill and force gave place and they took the place of skill
and force, with so unweariable a manner that the forsaken knight was
driven also to leave the stern of cunning, and gave himself wholly to
be guided by the storm of fury: there being in both, because hate
would not suffer admiration, extreme disdain to find themselves so
matched.
“What,” said Amphialus to himself, “am I Amphialus, before whom so
many monsters and giants have fallen dead, when I only sought
causeless adventures? and can one knight now withstand me in the
presence of Philoclea, and fighting for Philoclea, or since I lost my
liberty, have I lost my courage, have I gotten the heart of a slave as
well as the fortune? If an army were against me in the sight of
Philoclea, could it resist me? O beast, one man resists thee: thy
rival resists thee: or am I indeed Amphialus? have not passions killed
him, and wretched I, I know not how, succeeded into his place?” Of the
other side the forsaken knight with no less spite fell out with
himself; “Hast thou broken,” said he to himself, “the commandment of
thy only princess, to come now into her presence, and in her presence
to prove thyself a coward? Doth Asia and Egypt set up trophies unto
thee to be matched here by a traitor? O noble Barsanes, how shamed
will thy soul be, that he that slew thee, should be resisted by this
one man? O incomparable Pyrocles, more grieved wilt thou be with thy
friend’s shame, than with thine own imprisonment, when thou shalt know
how little I have been able to do for the delivery of thee, and these
{384} heavenly princesses. Am I worthy to be friend to the most
valorous prince that ever was entitled valorous, and show myself so
weak a wretch? No, shamed Musidorus, worthy for nothing but to keep
sheep, get thee a sheep-hook again, since thou canst use a sword no
better.”
Thus at times did they, now with one thought, then with another,
sharpen their over-sharp humours; like the lion that beats himself
with his own tail, to make himself the more angry. These thoughts
indeed not staying, but whetting their angry swords, which now had put
on the apparel of cruelty: they bleeding so abundantly, that everybody
that saw them, fainted for them, and yet they fainted not in
themselves: their smart being more sensible to other eyes than to
their own feeling. Wrath and courage barring the common sense from
bringing any message of their case to the mind: pain, weariness, and
weakness, not daring to make known their case, though already in the
limits of death, in the presence of so violent fury: which filling the
veins with rage instead of blood, and making the mind minister spirits
to the body, a great while held out their fight, like an arrow shot
upward by the force of the bow, though by his own nature he would go
downward. The forsaken knight had the more wounds, but Amphialus had
the sorer; which the other, watching time and place, had cunningly
given unto him: who ever saw a well-manned galley fight with a tall
ship, might make unto himself some kind of comparison of the
difference of these two knights; a better couple than which the world
could not brag of. Amphialus seemed to excel in strength, the forsaken
knight in nimbleness; and yet did the one’s strength excel in
nimbleness, and the other’s nimbleness excel in strength; but now
strength and nimbleness were both gone, and excess of courage only
maintained the fight. Three times had Amphialus, with his mighty blows
driven the forsaken knight to go staggering backward, but every one of
these times he requited pain with smart, and shame with repulse. And
now whether he had cause, or that over-much confidence, an
over-forward scholar of unconquered courage, made him think he had
cause, he began to persuade himself he had the advantage of the combat
though the advantage he took himself to have was only that he should
be the later to die: which hope, hate, as unsecret as love, could not
conceal, but drawing himself a little back from him, broke out in
these manner of words.
“Ah Amphialus,” said the forsaken knight, “this third time thou shalt
not escape me, but thy death shall satisfy thy injury and my malice,
and pay for the cruelty thou showedst in killing the noble Argalus,
and the fair Parthenia.” “In troth,” said Amphialus, “thou art the
best knight that ever I fought withal, which would {385} make me
willing to grant thee thy life, if thy wit were as good as thy
courage; that, besides other follies, layest that to my charge, which
most against my will was committed. But whether my death be in thy
power, or no, let this tell thee;” and upon the word waited a blow,
which parted his shield in two pieces; and despising the weak
resistance of his already broken armour, made a great breach into his
heart side, as if he would make a passage for his love to get out at.
But pain rather seemed to increase life, than to weaken life in these
champions. For the forsaken knight coming in with his right leg, and
making it guide the force of the blow, struck Amphialus upon the belly
so horrible a wound, that his guts came out withal. Which Amphialus
perceiving (fearing death, only because it should come with overthrow)
he seemed to conjure all his strength for one moment’s service; and so
lifting up his sword with both hands, hit the forsaken knight upon the
head, a blow, wherewith his sword broke. But, as if it would do a
notable service before it died, it prevailed so, even in the instant