"Well," I began, "hitherto we have had in view sword-play in the
literal sense of the word, that is to say theoretical fencing, fencing
regarded as a sport, as a bout with the foils in a fencing room. We
shall now have to consider it from the strictly utilitarian standpoint.
"In the one case we have an assault, consisting of a succession of
fancy strokes played by connoisseurs, who in point of skill may of
course be equally or unequally matched, but who nevertheless play the
game on the whole in accordance with principles that are tolerably
well ascertained. In the other case we have a serious encounter with
swords sharply pointed, flashing in the sun, and dangerous to life.
The first hit, correct or incorrect, is decisive, no matter how it is
delivered, no matter where.
"Do not forget that you have to reckon not only with skill but with the
possibility of surprise, not only with subtlety but with brute force,
not only with science but with blind and headlong ignorance. Your
opponent does not greatly care whether he lets your blood in orthodox
style, or whether he operates on your face for instance, or on those
parts of the body that are too much neglected in the fencing room. You
do not choose your opponent, he is chosen for you by accident; he may
be tall or short, strong or weak. You are no longer engaged in a sport
in which your object is to play correctly, in a contest of skill in
which you may perhaps allow yourself to be hit occasionally in order
to lead your opponent on and afterwards defeat him more easily. The
man who confronts you with that threatening point may be an artistic
and accomplished swordsman, but he may equally well never have touched
a sword in his life, and be trusting to luck, or to his general
smartness, or to a cool head. You may find that you have to do with an
enemy whose every movement is studied; who keeps his distance cleverly;
who never advances or retires without a reason. Or on the contrary,
it may turn out that your opponent, trusting to one supreme effort of
audacity, in defiance of all calculation, and throwing to the wind
every shred of theory, will make such brutal use of his sword as the
primitive and untutored instinct of self-preservation dictates.