The quality of mercy is not strained; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
Etty’s painting shows sweet Mercy putting herself in mortal danger to save a vanquished warrior. As the victorious warrior readies his sword for the final blow, Mercy intercedes. She hurls herself into the combat with poise, not punches, clinging to the victor’s waist while looking fearlessly up to the heavens as she pleads for the vanquished warrior’s life.In the foreground, Etty painted a broken sword. It brings to mind the Sword of Mercy, which symbolizes a monarch’s mercy. It’s one of the ceremonial swords used in British coronations since 1626.
People once believed that the monarch was God’s earthly representative who reigned by divine will. Etty’s Mercy therefore hints at this grace, which unconditionally acts beyond right and wrong—and sometimes logic—for the greater good.
Mercy showed herself as a blessing on the battlefield. But sometimes in everyday life, acts of mercy come from courage in the guise of meekness. Showing compassion to foes or the less fortunate can mean putting slights of ego and pride to one side. This isn’t the physical harm that Etty’s Mercy confronts in the combat, but a mental one. Everyday mercy like this shows its moral merits and how the quiet force of goodness can prevail.
