“By the Holy Rood, I swear,” said he, “that I will keep faith with the Fellowship and strive to set free villeins. Life and limb, body and soul, give I in this cause.”
And all that throng of villagers burst out a-singing:—
"'When Adam delved and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman?'"
But now, by the way that the peddler had come,—the unwatched way,—there came a band of horsemen suddenly, and rode into the midst of the crowd.
“Archbishop's men!” shrieked a woman. “Save John Ball!”
There was no room to shoot the long-bow.
“Though we rise not yet, we 'll maul 'em now,” roared a man.
But John Ball stayed him, stayed all.—“Not yet,—no blood shall flow. We have need of strong men. Remember!”
So, except a buffet here and there, pushing and hindrance, and loud words, there was no battle. Women clung weeping to John Ball, but he was bound and set on a horse. Then came the faithless espier and cast himself down in the way of that horse, and was trampled and his skull clove in.
One of the soldiers ran to the cross and would have bound Calote, for he said: “This wench also was speaking, exciting the people.” But Stephen thrust him off, and said he:—