"That's God's truth, God's truth!" came from all sides, enthusiastically.
"May the fires of hell burn me if they'll not be saying next that they did come from Adam and Eve, but that we came from some baser stock," exclaimed young Meryl with a bitter laugh.
"I tell you," added another, "until we show our lords that we are worth to them as much as their cattle, we shall not receive the same care and fodder."
"Dost hanker after hay?" called out a wit.
"Well," answered the other, abashed at the laugh that followed, "they are precious anxious to keep their cattle sleek and fat, and they might cast a thought on their men to keep their paunches fairly well lined."
"Ay! the cattle must have the fat of the land, but the men may go hungry," growled Thomas Pye.
"May go hungry, forsooth! I have not known a day for many a month that I have had my fill," said Tim the needle-maker, wistfully.
"We'll show them, we'll show them," cried an evil-looking fellow with a leer of hatred. "Their cattle cannot burn their palaces over their heads."
"There'll be no liberty in this land until every palace lies smoking on the ground," agreed another.