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Round
the
camp-fire
in
the
market-place
gather
still
more
of
the
Barons
'
troops
,
and
eat
and
drink
deep
,
and
bellow
forth
roystering
drinking
songs
,
and
gamble
and
quarrel
as
the
evening
grows
and
deepens
into
night
.
The
firelight
sheds
quaint
shadows
on
their
piled-up
arms
and
on
their
uncouth
forms
.
The
children
of
the
town
steal
round
to
watch
them
,
wondering
;
and
brawny
country
wenches
,
laughing
,
draw
near
to
bandy
ale-house
jest
and
jibe
with
the
swaggering
troopers
,
so
unlike
the
village
swains
,
who
,
now
despised
,
stand
apart
behind
,
with
vacant
grins
upon
their
broad
,
peering
faces
.
And
out
from
the
fields
around
,
glitter
the
faint
lights
of
more
distant
camps
,
as
here
some
great
lord
's
followers
lie
mustered
,
and
there
false
John
's
French
mercenaries
hover
like
crouching
wolves
without
the
town
.
And
so
,
with
sentinel
in
each
dark
street
,
and
twinkling
watch-fires
on
each
height
around
,
the
night
has
worn
away
,
and
over
this
fair
valley
of
old
Thame
has
broken
the
morning
of
the
great
day
that
is
to
close
so
big
with
the
fate
of
ages
yet
unborn
.
Ever
since
grey
dawn
,
in
the
lower
of
the
two
islands
,
just
above
where
we
are
standing
,
there
has
been
great
clamour
,
and
the
sound
of
many
workmen
.
The
great
pavilion
brought
there
yester
eve
is
being
raised
,
and
carpenters
are
busy
nailing
tiers
of
seats
,
while
'
prentices
from
London
town
are
there
with
many-coloured
stuffs
and
silks
and
cloth
of
gold
and
silver
.
And
now
,
lo
!
down
upon
the
road
that
winds
along
the
river
's
bank
from
Staines
there
come
towards
us
,
laughing
and
talking
together
in
deep
guttural
bass
,
a
half-a-score
of
stalwart
halbert-men
--
Barons
'
men
,
these
--
and
halt
at
a
hundred
yards
or
so
above
us
,
on
the
other
bank
,
and
lean
upon
their
arms
,
and
wait
.
And
so
,
from
hour
to
hour
,
march
up
along
the
road
ever
fresh
groups
and
bands
of
armed
men
,
their
casques
and
breastplates
flashing
back
the
long
low
lines
of
morning
sunlight
,
until
,
as
far
as
eye
can
reach
,
the
way
seems
thick
with
glittering
steel
and
prancing
steeds
.
And
shouting
horsemen
are
galloping
from
group
to
group
,
and
little
banners
are
fluttering
lazily
in
the
warm
breeze
,
and
every
now
and
then
there
is
a
deeper
stir
as
the
ranks
make
way
on
either
side
,
and
some
great
Baron
on
his
war-horse
,
with
his
guard
of
squires
around
him
,
passes
along
to
take
his
station
at
the
head
of
his
serfs
and
vassals
.
And
up
the
slope
of
Cooper
's
Hill
,
just
opposite
,
are
gathered
the
wondering
rustics
and
curious
townsfolk
,
who
have
run
from
Staines
,
and
none
are
quite
sure
what
the
bustle
is
about
,
but
each
one
has
a
different
version
of
the
great
event
that
they
have
come
to
see
;
and
some
say
that
much
good
to
all
the
people
will
come
from
this
day
's
work
;
but
the
old
men
shake
their
heads
,
for
they
have
heard
such
tales
before
.
And
all
the
river
down
to
Staines
is
dotted
with
small
craft
and
boats
and
tiny
coracles
--
which
last
are
growing
out
of
favour
now
,
and
are
used
only
by
the
poorer
folk
.
Over
the
rapids
,
where
in
after
years
trim
Bell
Weir
lock
will
stand
,
they
have
been
forced
or
dragged
by
their
sturdy
rowers
,
and
now
are
crowding
up
as
near
as
they
dare
come
to
the
great
covered
barges
,
which
lie
in
readiness
to
bear
King
John
to
where
the
fateful
Charter
waits
his
signing
.
It
is
noon
,
and
we
and
all
the
people
have
been
waiting
patient
for
many
an
hour
,
and
the
rumour
has
run
round
that
slippery
John
has
again
escaped
from
the
Barons
'
grasp
,
and
has
stolen
away
from
Duncroft
Hall
with
his
mercenaries
at
his
heels
,
and
will
soon
be
doing
other
work
than
signing
charters
for
his
people
's
liberty
.
Not
so
!
This
time
the
grip
upon
him
has
been
one
of
iron
,
and
he
has
slid
and
wriggled
in
vain
.
Far
down
the
road
a
little
cloud
of
dust
has
risen
,
and
draws
nearer
and
grows
larger
,
and
the
pattering
of
many
hoofs
grows
louder
,
and
in
and
out
between
the
scattered
groups
of
drawn-up
men
,
there
pushes
on
its
way
a
brilliant
cavalcade
of
gay-dressed
lords
and
knights
.
And
front
and
rear
,
and
either
flank
,
there
ride
the
yeomen
of
the
Barons
,
and
in
the
midst
King
John
.
