John Ball did not press me to move forward, but held up his hand as if to bid me hearken.

The folk and guests there had already shaken themselves down since our departure, and were gotten to be reasonably merry it seemed; for one of the guests, he who had spoken of France before, had fallen to singing a ballad of the war to a wild and melancholy tune.

I remember the first rhymes of it, which I heard as I turned away my head and we moved on toward the church: "On a fair field of France We fought on a morning So lovely as it lieth Along by the water.
There was many a lord there Mowed men in the medley, 'Midst the banners of the barons And bold men of the knighthood, And spearmen and sergeants And shooters of the shaft.".