But alas! he went out to die. In one battle, a small band of the English bravely attacked a large army of their enemies. The horse which Sidney was riding was killed under him, and as he mounted another, he was shot in the leg, and his thigh-bone was broken. The horse took fright and galloped away from the fight, but its wounded and bleeding rider held to his seat, and when he reached a place of safety was lifted from his horse, and gently laid upon the ground. He was faint from loss of blood, and in great pain, and his throat was parched with thirst.
"Bring me water," said he to a friend.
This was not easy to do, for there was not a stream near at hand, and in order to get to one it would be necessary to pass where the shot from the enemy's cannons was falling fast. But his friend was brave and went through the danger. Then he found some water, and brought it to him.
Sidney eagerly held out his hand for the cup, and as he was preparing to drink, another poor wounded soldier was carried past. This man was dying; he could not speak, but he looked with longing eyes at the water.
Sir Philip saw the look, and taking the cup from his own lips, passed it to the soldier, saying: "Thy need is greater than mine." The poor man quenched his thirst, and blessed him as he died.
Sir Philip lived on for a few weeks, growing weaker every day, but he never came back to his own land, and the many friends who loved him.
Sidney was great in many ways; very fair to see, very wise and good, and very clever and witty. He was one of the bravest fighters, one of the finest poets, and one of the best gentlemen who ever lived. He will always be remembered for his brave deeds, and his wise sayings, but most of all do men bless his name for this act of kindness to his poor dying comrade.