And when they came to mery Caerlell,In a fayre mornyng tyde,They founde the gates shut them untyll,Round about on every syde."Alas!" than sayd good Adam Bell,5"That ever we were made men!These gates be shut sowonderlywel,That we may not come here in."Then spake him Clym of the Clough,"Wyth a wyle we wyl us in bryng;10Let us saye we be messengers,Streyghtcomen fromour king."Adam said, "I have a letter written wel,Now let us wysely werke;We wyl saye we have the kingesseale,15I holde the portter no clerke."Then Adam Bell bete on the gate,With strokes great and strong;The porter herde suche noyse therat,And to the gatefastehe throng.20"Who is there nowe," sayde the porter,"That maketh all thys knocking?"We be tow messengers," sayde Clim of the Clough,"Becomen streyghtfrom our kyng.""We haue a letter," sayd Adam Bel,25"To the justicewemust it bryng;Let us in, our messag to do,That we were agayne to our kyng.""Here commethnoman in," sayd the porter,"By hym that dyed ona tre,30Tyll a false thefe be hanged,Called Wyllyam of Cloudeslè."Then spake the good yeman Clym of the Clough,And swore by Mary fre,"And if that we stande longe wythout,35Lyke a thefe hanged shalt thou be."Lo here we have the kynges seale;What! lordeyne, art thou wode?"The porter went it had ben so,And lyghtly dyd of hys hode.40"Welcome be my lordes seale," he saide,"For that ye shall come in:"He opened the gate full shortlye,An evyl openyng for him."Now are we in," sayde Adam Bell,45"Thereof we are full faine,But Christknoweththat harowed hell,How we shall com out agayne.""Had we the keys," said Clim of the Clough,"Ryght wel thenshouldewe spede;50Then might we come out wel ynough,"When we se tyme and nede."They calledtheporter to a counsell,And wrange hys necke in two,And caste him in a depe dongeòn,55And toke hys keys hym fro."Now am I porter," sayde Adam Bel,"Se, brother, the keys haue we here;The worst porter to merry Caerlel,That ye had thys hundred yere.60"And now wyll we our bowes bend,Into the towne wyll we go,For to delyver our dere brother,That lyveth in care and wo."[And thereupon] they bent theyr bowes,65And loked theyr stringes were round;The market placeofmery Caerlel,They besetinthat stound.And as they loked them besyde,A paire of new galowes thertheisee,70And the justice with a quest ofswerers,That had judged Cloudeslè there hanged to be.And Cloudeslè hymselfe lay redy in a carte,Fasteboundeboth fote and hand,And a stronge rop about hys necke,75All readye forto be hangde.The justice called to him a ladde,Cloudeslè [s] clothes should he have,To take the measure of thatgoodyeman,And therafter to make hys grave.80"I have seen as great a mearveile," said Cloudesli,"As betwyene thys and pryme,He that maketh thys grave for me,Himselfe may lye therin.""Thou speakest proudli," saide the justice,85"I shall the hange with my hande:"Full welthatherd hys brethren two,There styll as they dyd stande.ThenCloudeslècast hys eyen asyde,And saw hys tobrethren stande,90At a corner of themarketplace,With theyr good bows bent in ther hand."I segoodcomfort," sayd Cloudeslè,"Yet hope Iwellto fare;If I might haue my handes at wyll,95Ryght lytle wolde I care."Then spake good Adam Bell,To Clym of the Clough so free,"Brother, se ye marke the justyce wel,Lo yonder ye may him see.100"And at the shyrife shote I wyll,Strongly withanarrowe kene;A better shote in mery CaerlelThys seven yere was not sene."They lowsedtheirarrowes both at once,105Of no man had they dread;The one hyt the justice, the other the sheryfe,That both theyrsidesgan blede.All men voyded, that them stode nye,When the justice fell downe to the grounde,And the sherife fell nyghe hym by,111Eyther had his deathes wounde.All the citezens fast gan flye,They durst no longer abyde;Then lyghtlytheyloused Cloudeslè,115When he with ropes lay tyde.Wyllyam sterte to an officer of the towne,Hys axe out of hys hande he wronge,On eche syde he smote them downe,Hym thought he taryed all to long.120Wyllyam sayde to hysbrethrentwo,"Thys daye let ustogyderlyve and dye;If ever you have nede as I have now,The same shall you fynde by me."They shot so well in that tyde,125For theyr stringes were of silke full sure,That they kept the stretes on everyside:That batayle dyd longe endure.The[y] fought together as brethren tru,Lyke hardy men and bolde;130Many a man to the ground they thrue,Andmany a herte madecolde.But when their arrowes were all gon,Men precedonthem full fast;They drew theyr swordes then anone,135And theyr bowes from them cast.They went lyghtlye on theyr way,Wyth swordes and buclers round;By that itwas the myddesof the day,Theyhadmade mani a wound.140There wasmanyan out-horne in Caerlel blowen,And the belles bacward didtheyryng;Many a woman sayd alas,And many theyr handes dyd wryng.The mayre of Caerlel forth com was,145And with hym a ful great route;Thesethreyemen dred him full sore,For of theyr lyues they stode in great doute.The mayre came armed a full great pace,With a pollaxe in hys hande;150Many a strong man with him was,There in that stowre to stande.The mayre smot at Cloudeslè with his bil,Hys bucler he brust in two;Full many a yeman with greatyll,155"Alas, treason!" they cryed for wo."Kepe we the gates fast" they bad,"That these traytours thereout not go."But al for nought was that they wrought,Forsofast they downe were layde,160Tyll they all thre, that so manfulli fought,Were gotten without ata braide."Have here your keys," sayd Adam Bel,"Myne office I here forsake;Yf you do by my councèll,165A new porter doyemake."He threw the keys there at theyr heads,And bad them evell to thryve,And all that letteth any good yemanTo come and comfort hys wyfe.170Thus be these good yemen gon to the wod,As lyght aslefe on lynde;They lough and be mery in theyr mode,Theyr ennemyes were ferre behynd.When they came to Englyshe wode,175Under thetrystytre,Therethey found bowes full good,And arrowes full great plentye."So God me help," sayd Adam Bell,And Clym of the Clough so fre,180"I would we werenowein mery Caerlel,Before that fayre meyny."They set them downe and made good chere,And eate anddrankfull well:Here is a fet of these wyght yong men,185And another I shallyou tell.
And when they came to mery Caerlell,In a fayre mornyng tyde,They founde the gates shut them untyll,Round about on every syde.
"Alas!" than sayd good Adam Bell,5"That ever we were made men!These gates be shut sowonderlywel,That we may not come here in."
Then spake him Clym of the Clough,"Wyth a wyle we wyl us in bryng;10Let us saye we be messengers,Streyghtcomen fromour king."
Adam said, "I have a letter written wel,Now let us wysely werke;We wyl saye we have the kingesseale,15I holde the portter no clerke."
Then Adam Bell bete on the gate,With strokes great and strong;The porter herde suche noyse therat,And to the gatefastehe throng.20
"Who is there nowe," sayde the porter,"That maketh all thys knocking?"We be tow messengers," sayde Clim of the Clough,"Becomen streyghtfrom our kyng."
"We haue a letter," sayd Adam Bel,25"To the justicewemust it bryng;Let us in, our messag to do,That we were agayne to our kyng."
"Here commethnoman in," sayd the porter,"By hym that dyed ona tre,30Tyll a false thefe be hanged,Called Wyllyam of Cloudeslè."
Then spake the good yeman Clym of the Clough,And swore by Mary fre,"And if that we stande longe wythout,35Lyke a thefe hanged shalt thou be.
"Lo here we have the kynges seale;What! lordeyne, art thou wode?"The porter went it had ben so,And lyghtly dyd of hys hode.40
"Welcome be my lordes seale," he saide,"For that ye shall come in:"He opened the gate full shortlye,An evyl openyng for him.
"Now are we in," sayde Adam Bell,45"Thereof we are full faine,But Christknoweththat harowed hell,How we shall com out agayne."
"Had we the keys," said Clim of the Clough,"Ryght wel thenshouldewe spede;50Then might we come out wel ynough,"When we se tyme and nede."
They calledtheporter to a counsell,And wrange hys necke in two,And caste him in a depe dongeòn,55And toke hys keys hym fro.
"Now am I porter," sayde Adam Bel,"Se, brother, the keys haue we here;The worst porter to merry Caerlel,That ye had thys hundred yere.60
"And now wyll we our bowes bend,Into the towne wyll we go,For to delyver our dere brother,That lyveth in care and wo."
[And thereupon] they bent theyr bowes,65And loked theyr stringes were round;The market placeofmery Caerlel,They besetinthat stound.
And as they loked them besyde,A paire of new galowes thertheisee,70And the justice with a quest ofswerers,That had judged Cloudeslè there hanged to be.
And Cloudeslè hymselfe lay redy in a carte,Fasteboundeboth fote and hand,And a stronge rop about hys necke,75All readye forto be hangde.
The justice called to him a ladde,Cloudeslè [s] clothes should he have,To take the measure of thatgoodyeman,And therafter to make hys grave.80
"I have seen as great a mearveile," said Cloudesli,"As betwyene thys and pryme,He that maketh thys grave for me,Himselfe may lye therin."
"Thou speakest proudli," saide the justice,85"I shall the hange with my hande:"Full welthatherd hys brethren two,There styll as they dyd stande.
ThenCloudeslècast hys eyen asyde,And saw hys tobrethren stande,90At a corner of themarketplace,With theyr good bows bent in ther hand.
"I segoodcomfort," sayd Cloudeslè,"Yet hope Iwellto fare;If I might haue my handes at wyll,95Ryght lytle wolde I care."
Then spake good Adam Bell,To Clym of the Clough so free,"Brother, se ye marke the justyce wel,Lo yonder ye may him see.100
"And at the shyrife shote I wyll,Strongly withanarrowe kene;A better shote in mery CaerlelThys seven yere was not sene."
They lowsedtheirarrowes both at once,105Of no man had they dread;The one hyt the justice, the other the sheryfe,That both theyrsidesgan blede.
All men voyded, that them stode nye,When the justice fell downe to the grounde,And the sherife fell nyghe hym by,111Eyther had his deathes wounde.
All the citezens fast gan flye,They durst no longer abyde;Then lyghtlytheyloused Cloudeslè,115When he with ropes lay tyde.
Wyllyam sterte to an officer of the towne,Hys axe out of hys hande he wronge,On eche syde he smote them downe,Hym thought he taryed all to long.120
Wyllyam sayde to hysbrethrentwo,"Thys daye let ustogyderlyve and dye;If ever you have nede as I have now,The same shall you fynde by me."
They shot so well in that tyde,125For theyr stringes were of silke full sure,That they kept the stretes on everyside:That batayle dyd longe endure.
The[y] fought together as brethren tru,Lyke hardy men and bolde;130Many a man to the ground they thrue,Andmany a herte madecolde.
But when their arrowes were all gon,Men precedonthem full fast;They drew theyr swordes then anone,135And theyr bowes from them cast.
They went lyghtlye on theyr way,Wyth swordes and buclers round;By that itwas the myddesof the day,Theyhadmade mani a wound.140
There wasmanyan out-horne in Caerlel blowen,And the belles bacward didtheyryng;Many a woman sayd alas,And many theyr handes dyd wryng.
The mayre of Caerlel forth com was,145And with hym a ful great route;Thesethreyemen dred him full sore,For of theyr lyues they stode in great doute.
The mayre came armed a full great pace,With a pollaxe in hys hande;150Many a strong man with him was,There in that stowre to stande.
The mayre smot at Cloudeslè with his bil,Hys bucler he brust in two;Full many a yeman with greatyll,155"Alas, treason!" they cryed for wo."Kepe we the gates fast" they bad,"That these traytours thereout not go."
But al for nought was that they wrought,Forsofast they downe were layde,160Tyll they all thre, that so manfulli fought,Were gotten without ata braide.
"Have here your keys," sayd Adam Bel,"Myne office I here forsake;Yf you do by my councèll,165A new porter doyemake."
He threw the keys there at theyr heads,And bad them evell to thryve,And all that letteth any good yemanTo come and comfort hys wyfe.170
Thus be these good yemen gon to the wod,As lyght aslefe on lynde;They lough and be mery in theyr mode,Theyr ennemyes were ferre behynd.
When they came to Englyshe wode,175Under thetrystytre,Therethey found bowes full good,And arrowes full great plentye.
"So God me help," sayd Adam Bell,And Clym of the Clough so fre,180"I would we werenowein mery Caerlel,Before that fayre meyny."
They set them downe and made good chere,And eate anddrankfull well:Here is a fet of these wyght yong men,185And another I shallyou tell.
7, wonderous. R. (Ritson.)12, come nowe. R.15, seales. R.20, R. omits faste.24, come ryght. R.26, me.29, none. R.30, Be ... upon. R.47, knows, R.50, shaulde.53, a, C. (Collier.)67, in, R.68, in, C.70, they.71, squyers, R.74, bounde, C.76, to hang, R.79, good, C.87, that, C.89, Claudesle.90, brethen; Copland omits stande.91, marked.92. Here the old edition adds,—'Redy the justice for to chaunce', (chase, C.)93, Copland omits good.94, will.102, an, C.105, thre.108, sedes.115, then.121, brethen.122, togyder, C.127, sede.132, made many a herte.134, on, C.139, was myd, R.140, had, C.141, many, C.142, they, C.147, thre, C.155, evyll, R.160, to.162, abraide, R.166, we.167, theyr keys at, R.172, And lyghtly as, R.176, trusty, R.177, there, C.181, nowe, C.184, drynke, R.186. Another I wyll, R.
7, wonderous. R. (Ritson.)
12, come nowe. R.
15, seales. R.
20, R. omits faste.
24, come ryght. R.
26, me.
29, none. R.
30, Be ... upon. R.
47, knows, R.
50, shaulde.
53, a, C. (Collier.)
67, in, R.
68, in, C.
70, they.
71, squyers, R.
74, bounde, C.
76, to hang, R.
79, good, C.
87, that, C.
89, Claudesle.
90, brethen; Copland omits stande.
91, marked.
92. Here the old edition adds,—
'Redy the justice for to chaunce', (chase, C.)
'Redy the justice for to chaunce', (chase, C.)
93, Copland omits good.
94, will.
102, an, C.
105, thre.
108, sedes.
115, then.
121, brethen.
122, togyder, C.
127, sede.
132, made many a herte.
134, on, C.
139, was myd, R.
140, had, C.
141, many, C.
142, they, C.
147, thre, C.
155, evyll, R.
160, to.
162, abraide, R.
166, we.
167, theyr keys at, R.
172, And lyghtly as, R.
176, trusty, R.
177, there, C.
181, nowe, C.
184, drynke, R.
186. Another I wyll, R.
As they sat in Englyshe-wood,Under theyrtrystytre,Them thoughttheyherd a woman wepe,But her they mought not se.Sore then syghed the fayre Alyce,And sayde, "Alas that ever I sawe this daye!For now is my dere husband slayne,Alas and wel a way!"Myght I have spoken wyth hys derebrethren,Or with eyther of them twayne,10[To let them know what him befell]My hartwere outof payne!"Cloudeslè walked a lytle besyde,And loked under the grenewood linde;He was ware of hys wife and chyldren thre,15Full wo in hart and mynde."Welcome, wife," then sayde Wyllyam,"Underthis trystytre;I had wende yesterday, by swete saynt John,Thou shulde me neverhavese."20"Now well is me," she sayde, "that ye be here,My hart is out of wo:""Dame," he sayde, "be mery and glad,And thank mybrethrentwo.""Hereof to speake," sayd Adam Bell,25"I-wis it is no bote;The meat that we must supp withallIt runneth yet fast on fote."Then went they down into a launde,These noble archares all thre,30Eche of them slew a hart ofgreece,The best they could there se."Have here the best, Alyce my wife,"Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudeslè,"By cause ye so bouldly stod by me,35When I was slayne full nye."Thenwentthey to supper,Wyth suche meat as they had,And thanked God of ther fortune;They were both mery and glad.40And when they had supped well,Certayne without any leace,Cloudeslè sayd, "We wyll to our kyng,To get us a charter of peace."Alyce shall beatsojournyng,45In a nunry here besyde;My tow sonnes shall wyth her go,And ther they shall abyde."Myne eldest son shall go wyth me,For hym have I no care,50And he shallbreng youworde agaynHow that we do fare."Thus be these yemen to London gone,As fast as they might hye,Tyll they came to the kynges pallace,55Where they woulde nedes be.And whan they came to the kynges courte,Unto the pallace gate,Of no man wold they aske no leave,But boldly went in therat.60They preced prestly into the hall,Of no man had they dreade;The porter came after and dyd them call,And with them began to chyde.The ussher sayed, "Yemen, what wold ye haue?I pray you tell me;66You myght thus make offycers shent:Good syrs, of whence be ye?""Syr, we be outlawes of the forest,Certayne without any leace,70And hether we be come to our kyng,To get us a charter of peace."And whan they came before the kyng,As it was the lawe of the lande,The[y] kneled downe without lettyng,75And eche held up his hand.The[y] sayed, "Lord, we beseche the here,That ye wyll graunt us grace,For we haue slaine your fat falow der,In many a sondry place."80"What be your nam[e]s?" then said our king,"Anone that you tell me:They sayd, "Adam Bel, Clim of the Clough,And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè.""Be ye those theves," then sayd our kyng,85"That men have tolde of to me?Here to god I make a vowe,Ye shal be hanged al thre."Ye shal be dead without mercy,As I am kynge of this lande."90He commanded his officers everichoneFast on them to lay hand.There they toke these good yemen,And arested them all thre:"So may I thryve," sayd Adam Bell,95"Thys game lyketh not me."But, good lorde, we beseche you now,That you graunt vs grace,Insomuche as we be to you comen,Or els that we may fro you passe,100"With such weapons as we have here,Tyll we be out of your place;And yf we lyve this hundreth yere,We wyll aske you no grace.""Ye speake proudly," sayd the kynge,105"Ye shall be hanged all thre:""That were great pitye," then sayd the quene,"If any grace myght be."My lorde, whan I came fyrst into this lande,To be your wedded wyfe,110The fyrst bowne that I wold aske,Ye would graunt it me belyfe;"And I asked never none tyll now,Therefore, good lorde, graunte it me.""Now aske it, madam," sayd the kynge,115"And graunted shall it be.""Then, my good lord, I you beseche,These yemen graunt ye me:""Madame, ye myght have asked a bowneThat shuld have ben worth them all thre.120"Ye myght have asked towres and town[es],Parkes and forestes plenty.""None so pleasaunt to mi pay," she said,"Nor none so lefe to me.""Madame, sith it is your desyre,125Your askyng graunted shal be;But I had lever have geven youGood market townes thre."The quene was a glad woman,And sayd, "Lord, gramarcy;130I dare undertake for them,That true men shal they be."But, good lord, speke som mery word,That comfort they may se.""I graunt you grace," then said our king,135"Wasshe, felos, and to meate go ye."They had not setten but a whyle,Certayne without lesynge,There came messengers out of the north,With letters to our kynge.140And whan the[y] came before the kynge,They kneled downe vpon theyr kne,And sayd, "Lord, your offycers grete you wel,Of Caerlel in the north cuntrè.""How fare[s] my justice," sayd the kyng,145"And my sherife also?""Syr, they be slayne, without leasynge,And many an officer mo.""Who hath them slayne?" sayd the kyng,"Anone thou tell me:"150"Adam Bel, and Clime of the Clough,And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè.""Alas for rewth!" then sayd our kynge,"My hart is wonderous sore;I had leuer [th]an a thousand pounde,155I had knowne of thys before."For I have graunted them grace,And that forthynketh me,But had I knowne all thys before,They had been hanged all thre."160The kyng opened the letter anone,Hymselfe he red it th[r]o,And founde how these thre outlawes had slaineThre hundred men and mo.Fyrst the justice and the sheryfe,165And the mayre of Caerlel towne;Of all the constables and catchipollesAlyve were left not one.The baylyes and the bedyls both,And the sergeauntes of the law,170And forty fosters of the fe,These outlawes had yslaw,And broke his parks, and slaine his dere;Over all they chose the best;So perelous outlawes as they were,175Walked not by easte nor west.When the kynge this letter had red,In hys harte he syghed sore;"Take vp the table anone," he bad,"For I may eate no more."180The kyng called hys best archars,To the buttes with hym to go;"I wylle se these felowes shote," he sayd,In the north have wrought this wo."The kynges bowmen buske them blyve,185And the quenes archers also,So dyd these thre wyght yemèn,Wyth them they thought to go.There twyse or thryse they shote about,For to assay theyr hande;190There was no shote these yemen shot,That any prycke might them stand.Then spake Wyllyam of Cloudeslè,"By him that for me dyed,I hold hym never no good archar195That shuteth at buttes so wyde.""Wherat?" then sayd our kyng,"I pray thee tell me:""At such a but, syr," he sayd,"As men use in my countree."200Wyllyam went into a fyeld,And his to brethren with him,There they set vp to hasell roddes,Twenty score paces betwene."I hold him an archar," said Cloudeslè,205"That yonder wande cleveth in two:""Here is none suche," sayd the kyng,"Nor none that can so do.""I shall assaye, syr," sayd Cloudeslè,"Or that I farther go:"210Cloudeslè, with a bearyng arow,Clave the wand in to."Thou art the best archer," then said the king,"Forsothe that ever I se:""And yet for your love," said Wylliam,215"I wyll do more maystry."I have a sonne is seven yere olde,He is to me full deare;I wyll hym tye to a stake,All shall se that be here;220"And lay an apele upon hys head,And go syxe score paces hym fro,And I myselfe, with a brode arow,Shall cleve the apple in two.""Now haste the," then sayd the kyng,225"By him that dyed on a tre;But yf thou do not as thouhastsayde,Hanged shalt thou be."And thou touche his head or gowne,In syght that men may se,230By all the sayntes that be in heaven,I shall hange you all thre.""That I have promised," said William,"I wyl it never forsake;"And there even before the kynge,235In the earth he droue a stake,And bound therto his eldest sonne,And bad hym stande styll therat,And turned the childes face fro him,Because he shuld not sterte.240An apple upon his head he set,And then his bowe he bent;Syxe score paces they were out met,And thether Cloudeslè went.There he drew out a fayr brode arrowe,245Hys bowe was great and longe,He set that arrowe in his bowe,That was both styffe and stronge.He prayed the people that was there,That they would styll stande,250"For he that shooteth for such a wager,Behoveth a stedfast hand."Muche people prayed for Cloudeslè,That hys lyfe saved myght be,And whan he made hym redy to shote,255There was many a weping eye.Thus Cloudeslè clefte the apple in two,That many a man myght se;"Over gods forbode," sayde the kynge,"That thou shote at me!260"I geve the xviii. pence a day,And my bowe shalt thou beare,And over all the north countre,I make the chyfe rydere.""And I geve the xvii. pence a day," said the quene,265"By god and by my fay;Come feche thy payment when thou wylt,No man shall say the nay."Wyllyam, I make the a gentelman,Of clothyng and of fe,270And thi two brethren yemen of my chambre,For they are so semely to se."Your sonne, for he is tendre of age,Of my wyne-seller shall he be,And whan he commeth to mannes estate,275Better avaunced shall he be."And, Wylliam, bring me your wife," said the quene,Me longeth her sore to se;She shal be my chefe gentelwoman,To governe my nursery."280The yemen thanketh them full curteously,And sayde, "To some bysshop wyl we wend,Of all the synnes that we have doneTo be assoyld at his hand."So forth be gone these good yemen,285As fast as they myght hye,And after came and dwelled with the kynge,And dyed good men all thre.Thus endeth the lives of these good yemen,God send them eternall blysse,290And all that with hande bowe shoteth,That of heaven may never mysse!
As they sat in Englyshe-wood,Under theyrtrystytre,Them thoughttheyherd a woman wepe,But her they mought not se.
Sore then syghed the fayre Alyce,And sayde, "Alas that ever I sawe this daye!For now is my dere husband slayne,Alas and wel a way!
"Myght I have spoken wyth hys derebrethren,Or with eyther of them twayne,10[To let them know what him befell]My hartwere outof payne!"
Cloudeslè walked a lytle besyde,And loked under the grenewood linde;He was ware of hys wife and chyldren thre,15Full wo in hart and mynde.
"Welcome, wife," then sayde Wyllyam,"Underthis trystytre;I had wende yesterday, by swete saynt John,Thou shulde me neverhavese."20
"Now well is me," she sayde, "that ye be here,My hart is out of wo:""Dame," he sayde, "be mery and glad,And thank mybrethrentwo."
"Hereof to speake," sayd Adam Bell,25"I-wis it is no bote;The meat that we must supp withallIt runneth yet fast on fote."
Then went they down into a launde,These noble archares all thre,30Eche of them slew a hart ofgreece,The best they could there se.
"Have here the best, Alyce my wife,"Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudeslè,"By cause ye so bouldly stod by me,35When I was slayne full nye."
Thenwentthey to supper,Wyth suche meat as they had,And thanked God of ther fortune;They were both mery and glad.40
And when they had supped well,Certayne without any leace,Cloudeslè sayd, "We wyll to our kyng,To get us a charter of peace.
"Alyce shall beatsojournyng,45In a nunry here besyde;My tow sonnes shall wyth her go,And ther they shall abyde.
"Myne eldest son shall go wyth me,For hym have I no care,50And he shallbreng youworde agaynHow that we do fare."
Thus be these yemen to London gone,As fast as they might hye,Tyll they came to the kynges pallace,55Where they woulde nedes be.
And whan they came to the kynges courte,Unto the pallace gate,Of no man wold they aske no leave,But boldly went in therat.60
They preced prestly into the hall,Of no man had they dreade;The porter came after and dyd them call,And with them began to chyde.
The ussher sayed, "Yemen, what wold ye haue?I pray you tell me;66You myght thus make offycers shent:Good syrs, of whence be ye?"
"Syr, we be outlawes of the forest,Certayne without any leace,70And hether we be come to our kyng,To get us a charter of peace."
And whan they came before the kyng,As it was the lawe of the lande,The[y] kneled downe without lettyng,75And eche held up his hand.
The[y] sayed, "Lord, we beseche the here,That ye wyll graunt us grace,For we haue slaine your fat falow der,In many a sondry place."80
"What be your nam[e]s?" then said our king,"Anone that you tell me:They sayd, "Adam Bel, Clim of the Clough,And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè."
"Be ye those theves," then sayd our kyng,85"That men have tolde of to me?Here to god I make a vowe,Ye shal be hanged al thre.
"Ye shal be dead without mercy,As I am kynge of this lande."90He commanded his officers everichoneFast on them to lay hand.
There they toke these good yemen,And arested them all thre:"So may I thryve," sayd Adam Bell,95"Thys game lyketh not me.
"But, good lorde, we beseche you now,That you graunt vs grace,Insomuche as we be to you comen,Or els that we may fro you passe,100
"With such weapons as we have here,Tyll we be out of your place;And yf we lyve this hundreth yere,We wyll aske you no grace."
"Ye speake proudly," sayd the kynge,105"Ye shall be hanged all thre:""That were great pitye," then sayd the quene,"If any grace myght be.
"My lorde, whan I came fyrst into this lande,To be your wedded wyfe,110The fyrst bowne that I wold aske,Ye would graunt it me belyfe;
"And I asked never none tyll now,Therefore, good lorde, graunte it me.""Now aske it, madam," sayd the kynge,115"And graunted shall it be."
"Then, my good lord, I you beseche,These yemen graunt ye me:""Madame, ye myght have asked a bowneThat shuld have ben worth them all thre.120
"Ye myght have asked towres and town[es],Parkes and forestes plenty.""None so pleasaunt to mi pay," she said,"Nor none so lefe to me."
"Madame, sith it is your desyre,125Your askyng graunted shal be;But I had lever have geven youGood market townes thre."
The quene was a glad woman,And sayd, "Lord, gramarcy;130I dare undertake for them,That true men shal they be.
"But, good lord, speke som mery word,That comfort they may se.""I graunt you grace," then said our king,135"Wasshe, felos, and to meate go ye."
They had not setten but a whyle,Certayne without lesynge,There came messengers out of the north,With letters to our kynge.140
And whan the[y] came before the kynge,They kneled downe vpon theyr kne,And sayd, "Lord, your offycers grete you wel,Of Caerlel in the north cuntrè."
"How fare[s] my justice," sayd the kyng,145"And my sherife also?""Syr, they be slayne, without leasynge,And many an officer mo."
"Who hath them slayne?" sayd the kyng,"Anone thou tell me:"150"Adam Bel, and Clime of the Clough,And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè."
"Alas for rewth!" then sayd our kynge,"My hart is wonderous sore;I had leuer [th]an a thousand pounde,155I had knowne of thys before.
"For I have graunted them grace,And that forthynketh me,But had I knowne all thys before,They had been hanged all thre."160
The kyng opened the letter anone,Hymselfe he red it th[r]o,And founde how these thre outlawes had slaineThre hundred men and mo.
Fyrst the justice and the sheryfe,165And the mayre of Caerlel towne;Of all the constables and catchipollesAlyve were left not one.
The baylyes and the bedyls both,And the sergeauntes of the law,170And forty fosters of the fe,These outlawes had yslaw,
And broke his parks, and slaine his dere;Over all they chose the best;So perelous outlawes as they were,175Walked not by easte nor west.
When the kynge this letter had red,In hys harte he syghed sore;"Take vp the table anone," he bad,"For I may eate no more."180
The kyng called hys best archars,To the buttes with hym to go;"I wylle se these felowes shote," he sayd,In the north have wrought this wo."
The kynges bowmen buske them blyve,185And the quenes archers also,So dyd these thre wyght yemèn,Wyth them they thought to go.
There twyse or thryse they shote about,For to assay theyr hande;190There was no shote these yemen shot,That any prycke might them stand.
Then spake Wyllyam of Cloudeslè,"By him that for me dyed,I hold hym never no good archar195That shuteth at buttes so wyde."
"Wherat?" then sayd our kyng,"I pray thee tell me:""At such a but, syr," he sayd,"As men use in my countree."200
Wyllyam went into a fyeld,And his to brethren with him,There they set vp to hasell roddes,Twenty score paces betwene.
"I hold him an archar," said Cloudeslè,205"That yonder wande cleveth in two:""Here is none suche," sayd the kyng,"Nor none that can so do."
"I shall assaye, syr," sayd Cloudeslè,"Or that I farther go:"210Cloudeslè, with a bearyng arow,Clave the wand in to.
"Thou art the best archer," then said the king,"Forsothe that ever I se:""And yet for your love," said Wylliam,215"I wyll do more maystry.
"I have a sonne is seven yere olde,He is to me full deare;I wyll hym tye to a stake,All shall se that be here;220
"And lay an apele upon hys head,And go syxe score paces hym fro,And I myselfe, with a brode arow,Shall cleve the apple in two."
"Now haste the," then sayd the kyng,225"By him that dyed on a tre;But yf thou do not as thouhastsayde,Hanged shalt thou be.
"And thou touche his head or gowne,In syght that men may se,230By all the sayntes that be in heaven,I shall hange you all thre."
"That I have promised," said William,"I wyl it never forsake;"And there even before the kynge,235In the earth he droue a stake,
And bound therto his eldest sonne,And bad hym stande styll therat,And turned the childes face fro him,Because he shuld not sterte.240
An apple upon his head he set,And then his bowe he bent;Syxe score paces they were out met,And thether Cloudeslè went.
There he drew out a fayr brode arrowe,245Hys bowe was great and longe,He set that arrowe in his bowe,That was both styffe and stronge.
He prayed the people that was there,That they would styll stande,250"For he that shooteth for such a wager,Behoveth a stedfast hand."
Muche people prayed for Cloudeslè,That hys lyfe saved myght be,And whan he made hym redy to shote,255There was many a weping eye.
Thus Cloudeslè clefte the apple in two,That many a man myght se;"Over gods forbode," sayde the kynge,"That thou shote at me!260
"I geve the xviii. pence a day,And my bowe shalt thou beare,And over all the north countre,I make the chyfe rydere."
"And I geve the xvii. pence a day," said the quene,265"By god and by my fay;Come feche thy payment when thou wylt,No man shall say the nay.
"Wyllyam, I make the a gentelman,Of clothyng and of fe,270And thi two brethren yemen of my chambre,For they are so semely to se.
"Your sonne, for he is tendre of age,Of my wyne-seller shall he be,And whan he commeth to mannes estate,275Better avaunced shall he be.
"And, Wylliam, bring me your wife," said the quene,Me longeth her sore to se;She shal be my chefe gentelwoman,To governe my nursery."280
The yemen thanketh them full curteously,And sayde, "To some bysshop wyl we wend,Of all the synnes that we have doneTo be assoyld at his hand."
So forth be gone these good yemen,285As fast as they myght hye,And after came and dwelled with the kynge,And dyed good men all thre.
Thus endeth the lives of these good yemen,God send them eternall blysse,290And all that with hande bowe shoteth,That of heaven may never mysse!