Jean de Bevil

It is a joyous thing, war. _You love your comrade so much in war. _When you see that your quarrel is just, and your blood is fighting well, tears rise to your eyes. A great sweet feeling of loyalty and of pity fills your heart on seeing your friend so valiantly exposing his body. _And then your are prepared to go and live or die with him, and for love not to abandon him. _And out of that, there arises such a delectation, that he who has not experienced it is not fit to say what delight is. _Do you think that a man who does that fears death? _Not at all, for he feels so strengthened, so elated, that he does not know where he is. _Truly he is afraid of nothing.