Duelling Quotes

“The blades sang like the strokes of a hammer on a blacksmith's anvil echoing in the empty churchyard.”
― Stanley Goldyn, The Cavalier Club

“…Swammerdamm drew a small telescope from his pocket, extended it to its full length, and assailed his enemy with a loud cry of: 'Draw, you scoundrel, if you have the courage!'
   Leuwenhoek promptly had a similar instrument in his hand, likewise extended it, and shouted: 'Come on, I'll fight you, and you'll soon feel my power!' The two put the telescopes to their eyes and fell upon each other furiously with sharp and murderous strokes, lengthening and shortening their weapons by pulling the extensions in and out. There were feints, parries, turns, in a word all the tricks of the fencer, and they seemed to grow ever more infuriated. If one of them was hit, he screamed, leapt into the air, and performed the most wonderful caprioles, and the most beautiful entrechats and pirouettes, like the best solo dancer in the Paris ballet, until the other focused the shortened telescope on him. If the same thing happened to the other, he behaved similarly. Thus they alternately displayed the boldest leaps, the wildest gestures, the most furious outcry; the sweat was dripping from their foreheads, their bloodshot eyes were protruding from their heads, and since no cause for their St Vitus dance was visible, save that they looked through the telescopes in turn, one was obliged to conclude that they were lunatics escaped from the madhouse. For the rest, the duel was a most pleasing sight.”
― E.T.A. Hoffmann, The Golden Pot and Other Tales

“However much this annoyed me, it is accepted practice for a duellist's supporters to cheer them on- in fact, i was entitled to similar outbursts from my own admirers.
'This Undriel fellow really is remarkably skilled,'Kest remarked.
Undriel. That was the bastard's name.
Brasti came to my defence, after a fashion. 'It's not Falcio's fault. He's getting old. And slow. Also, i think he might be getting fat. Just look at him- barely four months since he beat Shuran and already he's half the man he once was.'
Always nice to have friends nearby in troubled times, i thought, batting at Undriel's blade with a clumsy parry that was testament to my increasing exhaustion.”
― Sebastien de Castell, Saint's Blood

“A Futile Gesture by Stewart Stafford

Challenged to de Clair's Danse Macabre,
Sebastian counted condemned steps,
Thistle ranks awaiting duelling blood,
A powdered farce of silk and steel.

Spun, heart exposed to pistol shot,
Sebastian faced his rival, Flintlock fired,
A sharp crack counterpointed the gale,
A crimson bloom on his foe’s ribcage.

Honour preserved, whatever it meant -
Slain Baron de Clair curtsied to tilled earth,
The manservant held out his master's coat
as if death were but a pause in the day.

© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford