"'John the Miller hath y ground small, small, small,
The King's son of heaven shall pay for all.
Be ware or ye be wo,
Know your friend from your foe.
Have enough and say 'ho!'
And do well and better and flee sin,
And seek peace and hold therein.
And so bid John Trueman and all his fellows.'"
They looked one on another with faces a little pale:—
“'T has come,” they said. “Read on, Will!” And anon he read the second letter:—
“'Jack Milner asketh help to turn his milne aright. He hath grounden small, small. The King's son of heaven he shall pay for all. Look thy milne go aright, with the four sails, and the post stand in steadfastness. With right and with might, with skill and with will, let might help right and skill go before will and right before might, then goeth our milne aright. And if might go before right, then is our milne misadight.'”
“John Ball hath rungen our bell,” said Hobbe. “I 'll go beat a ploughshare,” and went out.
Also the two messengers kissed either other and clipt close, and after, departed.
Will Langland took from his pouch a fresh parchment and made ready to copy the letters, his daughter leaning against his knee. By the wall sat Jack Straw a-sulking, his legs sprawled wide, his chin in his chest, his eyes watchful. Kitte took her besom and swept the floor.
And now there came in another from Cornhill; he wore the badge of the white hart on his sleeve.
“Rochester Castle is ta'en!” he said.
And Calote ran to him, and “O Stephen!” she cried, “the message is gone forth! The people is rising!”