That I am only a sabre of wood and that, like some ridiculous baby,
I have brought my host to this desert, confounding marches and battles with things in story books.
Cowards!
Cowards,
Cowards! A plague upon me for having trusted you, cowards!
I have been thrown to the ground and the mob has stamped on my body,
And here I lie struck down and brought to nought!
Come, do not be afraid! See, I am weak and defenceless! Throw yourselves upon me like animals!
Beat out my brains with your clubs! Strike! Kick me to death with your boots!
The Surgeon: Take care. You have started the bleeding again.