agree of
our own accord. But since the issue remains doubtful, we must pay
some regard to gentle dealing, and must not give way so far to our
inclinations as to leave the last offices undone. Hatred is in our
hearts; yet let piety be there also, which in its due time may take the
place of rigour. For the rights of nature reconcile us, though we are
parted by differences of purpose; they link us together, howsoever
rancour estrange our spirit. Let us, therefore, have this pious
stipulation, that the conqueror shall give funeral rites to the
conquered. For all allow that these are the last duties of human
kind, from which no righteous man shrinks. Let each army lay aside its
sternness and perform this function in harmony. Let jealousy depart
at death, let the feud be buried in the tomb. Let us not show such an
example of cruelty as to persecute one another's dust, though hatred has
come between us in our lives. It will be a boast for the victor if he
has borne his beaten foe in a lordly funeral. For the man who pays the
rightful dues over his dead enemy wins the goodwill of the survivor; and
whoso devotes gentle dealing to him who is no more, conquers the living
by his kindness. Also there is another disaster, not less lamentable,
which sometimes befalls the living--the loss of some part of their body;
and I think that succor is due to this just as much as to the worst hap
that may befall. For often those who fight keep their lives safe, but
suffer maiming; and this lot is commonly thought more dismal than any
death; for death cuts off memory of all things, while the living cannot
forget the devastation of his own body. Therefore this mischief also
must be helped somehow; so let it be agreed, that the injury of either
of us by the other shall be made good with ten talents (marks) of gold.
For if it be righteous to have compassion on the calamities of another,
how much more is it to pity one's own? No man but obeys nature's
prompting; and he who slights it is a self-murderer."

After mutually pledging their faiths to these terms, they began the
battle. Nor was their strangeness his meeting one another, nor the
sweetness of that spring-green spot, so heeded as to prevent them from
the fray. Horwendil, in his too great ardour, became keener to attack
his enemy than to defend his own body; and, heedless of his shield, had
grasped his sword with both hands; and his boldness did not fail. For by
his rain of blows he destroyed K