Yet side by side with Jacques Enguerrande
I stood till we fell together—he, dead;
I, wounded—how badly, these scars reveal;
And then our last man, in his terror, fled.
“Over our bodies the crowd tramped on,
Nor recked if ’twere brothers their feet defiled;
The city was all their own, and the greed
Of plunder had made them mad or wild;
And I heard one voice, with a drunken laugh,
Call out for the child, Jacques Enguerrande’s child.