Who writhed beside me, dying! With a boundI sprang up, empty-handed, groping roundFor spear or sword, when, lo, a young strong manWas close to me and slashed, and the sword ranDeep through my flank. I felt its passage well,So deep, so wide, so spreading . . . then I fell.And they, they got the bridles in their handAnd fled .... Ah! Ah! This pain. I cannot stand.The Guards catch him as he reels, and lay him on the ground.I know, I saw, thus much. But why or howThose dead men went to death I cannot know,