Truly, it is well for honest men, but not so well for forestallers and regraters;[2] but who heeds what befalls such foul swine, who filch the money from people's purses, and do not one hair's turn of work to help them ?" "Yea, friend," I said, "but in those latter days all power shall be in the hands of these foul swine, and they shall be the rulers of all; therefore, hearken, for I tell thee that times of plenty shall in those days be the times of famine, and all shall pray for the prices of wares to rise, so that the forestallers and regraters may thrive, and that some of their well-doing may overflow on to those on whom they live." "I am weary of thy riddles," he said.

"Yet at least I hope that there may be fewer and fewer folk in the land; as may well be, if life is then so foul and wretched." "Alas, poor man!" I said; "nor mayst thou imagine how foul and wretched it may be for many of the folk; and yet I tell thee that men shall increase and multiply, till where there is one man in the land now, there shall be twenty in those days--yea, in some places ten times twenty." "I have but little heart to ask thee more questions," said he; "and when thou answerest, thy words are plain, but the things they tell of I may scarce understand.

But tell me this: in those days will men deem that so it must be for ever, as great men even now tell us of our ills, or will they think of some remedy ?" I looked about me.

There was but a glimmer of light in the church now, but what there was, was no longer the strange light of the moon, but the first coming of the kindly day.
"Yea," said John Ball, "'tis the twilight of the dawn.

God and St.
Christopher send us a good day!" "John Ball," said I, "I have told thee that thy death will bring about that which thy life has striven for: thinkest thou that the thing which thou strivest for is worth the labour?
or dost thou believe in the tale I have told thee of the days to come ?" He said: "I tell thee once again that I trust thee for a seer; because no man could make up such a tale as thou; the things which thou tellest are too wonderful for a minstrel, the tale too grievous.