“For I have herde tell also Achilles left his armes so, Both of himself and of his men, At Troie for Polixenen Upon her love when he felle, That for no chaunce that befelle Among the Grekes or up or down He wolde nought ayen the town Ben armed for the love of her.”

“I know not how,” says Bacon in his “Essay on Love,” “but martial men are given to love; I think it is but as they are given to wine; for perils commonly ask to be paid in pleasure.” ↩

Paris of Troy, of whom Spenser says, Faerie Queene , III , ix 34:⁠—