“I was moved to compassion, and so much the more that he straight
called to me for succour, desiring me at least to kill him, to deliver
him from those tormentors. But before myself could resolve, much less
any other tell what I would resolve, there came in choleric haste
towards me about seven or eight knights, the foremost of which, willed
me to get away, and not to trouble the ladies while they were taking
their due revenge; but with so over-mastering a manner of pride, as
truly my heart could not brook it; and therefore, answering them, that
how I would have defended him from the ladies I knew not, but from
them I would, I began to combat first with him particularly, and after
his death with the others that had less good manners, jointly. But
such was the end of it, that I kept the field with the death of some,
and flight of others. Insomuch as the women, afraid, what angry
victory would bring forth, ran all away, saving only one, who was so
fleshed in malice that neither during, nor after the fight, she gave
any truce to her cruelty, but still used the little instrument of her
great spite, to the well-witnessed pain of the impatient patient: and
was now about to put out his eyes, which all this while were spared,
because they should do him the discomfort of seeing who prevailed over
him. When I came in, and after much ado brought her to some
conference, for some time it was before she would hearken, more before
she would speak, and most before she would in her speech leave off the
sharp remembrance of her bodkin, but at length when I pulled off my
head-piece, and humbly entreated her pardon, or knowledge why she was
cruel, out of breath more with choler, which increased in his own
exercise, than with the pain she took, much to this purpose, she gave
her grief unto my knowledge.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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