"
"You shall not see me turn back," said the prince. "Advance, banner, in
the name of God and St. George!"
On went the banner; on came the array of fighting knights; into the
French host they pressed deeper and deeper, King John their goal. The
field was strewn with dead and dying; panic was spreading in widening
circles through the French army; the repulsed horsemen were in full
flight and thousands of those behind them broke and followed. King John
fought with knightly courage, his son Philip, a boy of sixteen, by his
side, aiding him by his cries of warning. But nothing could withstand
the English onset. Some of his defenders fell, others fled; he would
have fallen himself but for the help of a French knight, in the English
service.
"Sir, yield you," he called to the king, pressing between him and his
assailants.
"To whom shall I yield?" asked the king. "Where is my cousin, the prince
of Wales?"
"He is not here, sir. Yield, and I will bring you to him."
"And who are you?"
"I am Denis of Morbecque, a knight of Artois. I serve the English king,
for I am banished from France, and all I had has been forfeited."
"Then I yield me to you," said the king, handing him his right gauntlet.
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