At this moment the sculptor, seeing about him none but the faces of enemies and Spaniards, thought upon Flanders, the land of men, folded his arms, and dragging his long chain behind him he went straight to the straw and burning faggots and standing upright upon them with arms still folded:
Une hartan, eskultoreak, inguruan etsai espainolen aurpegiak baino ikusten ez zituela, Flandria hartu zuen gogoan, gizon garratzen herria, besoak antxumatu zituen, eta katea luzea arrastaka zeroala, lasto eta zotz-abar sutuetara abiatu zen, eta bertan zutunik: