the Good Knight without Fear and without Reproach died as he had lived,
bearing himself with humble devotion towards God and loving care and
thought towards all men. His friends would have borne him away, but he
implored them to leave him and seek their own safety, for he was in such
terrible pain that he could not endure to be moved. He sent his last
salutations to the King his master, and to all his companions, and took an
affectionate leave of his heart-broken friends, who obeyed his command, all
but the one faithful attendant who remained with him to the end. This was
his steward, Jacques Jeffrey, and we are told of the poor man's grief and
despair, while his master sought to comfort him with brave and noble words.
"Jacques, my friend, cease your lament, for it is the will of God to take
me away from this world where by His grace I have long dwelt and received
more good things and honours than I deserve. The only regret that I have in
dying is that I have failed in my duty ... and I pray my Creator in His
infinite mercy to have pity on my poor soul...."

Nothing could exceed the consternation and sorrow which spread through the
French camp when the news reached them that Bayard was wounded and in
mortal agony. The same feeling was shared by his enemies, for to them the
name of Bayard represented the most perfect knight in all the world, the
pattern of chivalry whom every true man sought to imitate from afar.

In sad procession the captains of Spain and Italy came to do honour and
reverence to the dying hero. Amongst them the Marquis of Pescara (the
husband of Vittoria Colonna) found noble words to speak the praise and
admiration which filled the hearts of all. "Would to God, my gentle lord of
Bayard, that I had been wounded nigh unto death if only you were in health
again and my prisoner; for then I could have shown you how highly I esteem
your splendid prowess and valour ... since I first made acquaintance with
arms I have never heard of any knight who even approached you in every