Chirurgical knowledge was also a necessary feminine accomplishment, and we will accept the reason of the cavalier with "high thoughts, seated in a heart of courtesy," for such a remarkable feature in their character. "The art of surgery," says Sir Philip Sidney, "was much esteemed, because it served to virtuous courage, which even ladies would, even with the contempt of cowards, seem to cherish."[210] A fair maiden could perform as many wonderful cures as the most renowned and skilful leech. The gentle Nicolette successfully treated an accident which her knight Aucassin met with. "So prosper'd the sweet lass, her strength alone Thrust deftly back the dislocated bone; Then, culling curious herbs of virtue tried, While her white smock the needful bands supplied: With many a coil the limb she swath'd around, And nature's strength return'd, nor knew its former wound." Spenser favours us with the ladies' method of treating a wound. "Mekely she bowed down, to weete if life Yet in his frozen members did remain; And, feeling by his pulses beating rife That the weak soul her seat did yet retain, She cast to comfort him with busy pain: His double-folded neck she reared upright, And rubb'd his temples and each trembling vein; His mailed haberieon she did undight, And from his head his heavy burganet did light. Into the woods thenceforth in haste she went, To seek for herbs that mote him remedy; For she of herbes had great intendiment, Taught of the nymph from whom her infancy Her nourced had in true nobility. * * * * * The soveraine weede betwixt two marbles plain, She powder'd small, and in pieces bruize; And then atweene her lily handes twain Into his wound ye juice thereof did scruze; And round about, as she could well it use, The flesh therewith she suppled and did steepe T'abate all spasm and soke the swelling bruise; And, after having search't the intuse deep, She with her scarf did bind the wound, from cold to keep."[211] [Sidenote: Every-day life of the maiden.] The every-day life of a young maiden in chivalric times is described with a great deal of spirit in the fine old English tale, of the Squire of Low Degree. I am not acquainted with any other passage of the metrical romances which contains so vivid a picture of the usages of our ancestors. To dissipate his daughter's melancholy for the loss of her lover, the King of Hungary says, "To-morrow ye shall on hunting fare, And ride, my daughter, in a chair,[212] It shall be covered with velvet red, And cloths of fine gold all about your head; With damask white and azure blue Well diapered with lilies new. Your pomelles shall be ended with gold, Your chains enameled many a fold; Your mantle of rich degree, Purple pall and ermine fre.