You might observe too, interposed Dr. Arbuthnot, that this was the way in which those fiercer disputes concerning a mistress, or a kingdom, were frequently decided. And, if this sort of decision, in such cases, were still in use among Christian princes, you might call it perhaps a barbarous custom: but would it be ever the worse, do you think, for their good subjects?
Perhaps it would not, returned Mr. Addison, in some instances. And yet will you affirm, that those good subjects were in any enviable situation, under their fighting masters? After all, allowing you to put the best construction you can on these usages of our forefathers,
“all we find
Is, that they did their work and din’d.”
And though such feats may argue a sound athletic constitution, you must excuse me, if I am not forward to entertain any high notions of their civility.
Their civility, said Dr. Arbuthnot, is another consideration. The HALL and TILT-YARD are certainly good proofs of what they are alleged for, the hospitality and bravery of our ancestors. But it hath not been maintained, that these were their only virtues. On the contrary, it seems to me, that every flower of humanity, every elegance of art and genius, was cultivated amongst them. For an instance, need we look any further than the LAKE, which in the flourishing times of this castle was so famous, and which we even now trace in the winding bed of that fine meadow?
I do not understand you, replied Mr. Addison. I can easily imagine what an embellishment that lake must have been to the castle; but am at a loss to conceive what flowers of wit and ingenuity, to use your own ænigmatical language, could be raised or so much as watered by it.
And, have you then, returned Dr. Arbuthnot, so soon forgotten the large description, you gave us just now, of the shows and pageants displayed on this lake? And can any thing better declare the art, invention, and ingenuity, of their conductors? Is not this canal as good a memorial of the ardour and success with which the finer exercises of the mind were pursued in that time, as the tilt-yard, we have now left, is of the address and dexterity shewn in those of the body?
I remember, said Mr. Addison, that many of the shows, intended for the queen’s entertainment at this place, were exhibited on that canal. But as to any art or beauty of contrivance—
“You see none, I suppose.”
Why truly none, resumed Mr. Addison. To me they seemed but well enough suited to the other barbarities of the time. “The Lady of the Lake and her train of Nereids,” was not that the principal? And can it pass for any thing better than a jumble of Gothic romance and pagan fable? a barbarous modern conceit, varnished over with a little classical pedantry?