never heard of such desperate charges as they gave upon the enemies in
the face of their muskets."

He described Sidney's wound as "very dangerous, the bone being broken in
pieces;" but said that the surgeons were in good hope. "I pray God to
save his life," said the Earl, "and I care not how lame he be." Sir
Philip was carried to Arnheim, where the best surgeons were immediately
in attendance upon him. He submitted to their examination and the pain
which they inflicted, with great cheerfulness, although himself persuaded
that his wound was mortal. For many days the result was doubtful, and
messages were sent day by day to England that he was convalescent--
intelligence which was hailed by the Queen and people as a matter not of
private but of public rejoicing. He soon began to fail, however. Count
Hohenlo was badly wounded a few days later before the great fort of
Zutphen. A musket-ball entered his mouth; and passed through his cheek,
carrying off a jewel which hung in his ear. Notwithstanding his own
critical condition, however, Hohenlo sent his surgeon, Adrian van den
Spiegel, a man of great skill, to wait upon Sir Philip, but Adrian soon
felt that the case was hopeless. Meantime fever and gangrene attacked
the Count himself; and those in attendance upon him, fearing for his
life, sent for his surgeon. Leicester refused to allow Adrian to depart,
and Hohenlo very generously acquiescing in the decree, but, also
requiring the surgeon's personal care, caused himself to be transported
in a litter to Arnheim.

Sidney was first to recognise the symptoms of mortification, which made a
fatal result inevitable. His demeanour during his sickness and upon his
death-bed was as beautiful as his life. He discoursed with his friends
concerning the immortality of the soul, comparing the doctrines of Plato
and of other ancient philosophers, whose writings were so familiar to