es, and turning about saw John Ball standing behind me, looking
pensively on all the stir and merry humours of the joyous uplanders.

"Brother from Essex," said he, "shall I see thee again to-night? I were
fain of speech with thee; for thou seemest like one that has seen more
than most."

"Yea," said I, "if ye come to Will Green's house, for thither am I
bidden."

"Thither shall I come," said he, smiling kindly, "or no man I know in
field. Lo you, Will Green looking for something, and that is me. But
in his house will be song and the talk of many friends; and forsooth I
have words in me that crave to come out in a quiet place where they may
have each one his own answer. If thou art not afraid of dead men who
were alive and wicked this morning, come thou to the church when supper
is done, and there we may talk all we will."

Will Green was standing beside us before he had done, with his hand
laid on the priest's shoulder, waiting till he had spoken out; and as I
nodded Yea to John Ball he said:

"Now, master priest, thou hast spoken enough this two or three hours,
and this my new brother must tell and talk in my house; and there my
maid will hear his wisdom which lay still under the hedge e'en now when
the bolts were abroad. So come ye, and ye good fellows, come!"

So we turned away together into the little street. But while John Ball
had been speaking to me I felt strangely, as though I had more things
to say than the words I knew could make clear: as if I wanted to get
from other people a new set of words. Moreover, as we passed up the
street again I was once again smitten with the great beauty of the
scene; the houses, the church with its new chancel and tower,
snow-white in the moonbeams now; the dresses and arms of the people,
men and women (for the latter were now mixed up with the men); their
grave sonorous language, and the quaint and measured forms of speech,
were again become a wonder to me and affected me almost to tears.

CHAPTER VIII

SUPPER AT WILL GREEN'S

I walked along with the others musing as if I did not belong to them,
till we came to Will Green's house. He was one of the wealthier of the
yeomen, and his house was one of those I told you of, the lower story
of which was built of stone. It had not been built long, and was very
trim and neat. The fit of wonder had worn off me again by then I
reached it, or perhaps I should give you a closer description of it,
for it was a hands