Nay, I can say I never hid to chamber as my fellows did.
I felt my conscience clear as frost, and touched no woman—God forbid.
I set my contrite soul apart with mass, procession, penance, rites
That took me out to see the sights, brushing ecstatic lanes athwart
The quiddering mob with tears of joy—my tutor's phrase was οἱ πολλοὶ [Greek: hoi polloi]—
Though few were left. Some Greeks of ours confused Jerusalem with Troy.
But most the bestial German louts made even their hardest allies sick;
They ran to mutilate the quick and sniff the dead with joyous snouts.
Shriven, forgiven, we embraced each stone that Christ had touched, and placed
Such relics under treble guard. One note in our rejoicings jarred.