Each man had brought with him a good store of cold meat and a bottle of stout March beer to stay his stomach till the homecoming.

So when high noontide had come they sat them down upon the soft grass, beneath a green and wide-spreading hawthorn bush, and held a hearty and jovial feast.

After this, one kept watch while the others napped, for it was a still and sultry day.
Thus they passed the time pleasantly enow, but no guest such as they desired showed his face in all the time that they lay hidden there.

Many passed along the dusty road in the glare of the sun: now it was a bevy of chattering damsels merrily tripping along; now it was a plodding tinker; now a merry shepherd lad; now a sturdy farmer; all gazing ahead along the road, unconscious of the seven stout fellows that lay hidden so near them.

Such were the travelers along the way; but fat abbot, rich esquire, or money-laden usurer came there none.
At last the sun began to sink low in the heavens; the light grew red and the shadows long.