there. Why am I to love any friend the less for any obstruction in his life? Is not the very time for me to love most tenderly when I must see his life in despite of seeming; when he shows it me I can only admire: I do not give myself. I am taken captive. How shall I express my meaning? Perhaps I can do so from the tales of chivalry, where I find what corresponds far more thoroughly with my nature than in these stoical statements. The friend of Amadis expects to hear prodigies of valor of the absent preux [chevalier]; but if he be mutilated in one of his first battles, shall he be mistrusted by the brother of his soul more than if he had been tested in a hundred? If Britomart finds Artegall bound in the enchanter’s spell, can she doubt, therefore, him whom she has seen in the magic glass? A Britomart does battle in his cause, and frees him from the evil power; a dame of less nobleness sits and watches the enchanted sleep, weeping night and day, or spurs away on her white palfrey to find some one more helpful than herself. But they are always faithful through the dark hours to the bright. The Douglas motto, ‘Tender and true,’ seems to me the worthiest of the strongest breast. To borrow again from your Spenser, I am entirely suited with the fate of the three brothers, Diamond and the rest. I could not die while there was yet life in my brother’s breast. I would return from the shades and nerve him with twofold life for the fight. I could do it, for our hearts beat with one blood. Do you not see the truth and happiness of this waiting tenderness? The verse,
| ‘Have I a lover |
| Who is noble and free, |
| I would he were nobler |
| Than to love me.’ |
