And Cloudeslè hymselfe lay redy in a carte,

Faste bounde both fote and hand, And a stronge rop about hys necke, All readye for to be hangde.

The justice called to him a ladde,

Cloudeslès clothes should he have,
To take the measure of that good yeman,
And therafter to make hys grave.

"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,

"I shall thee hange with my hande :" Full wel that herd hys brethren two, There styll as they dyd stande.

Then Cloudeslè cast hys eyen asyde,

And saw hys two brethren stande,

At a corner of the market place,

With theyr good bows bent in ther hand.

"I se good comfort," sayd Cloudeslè,
"Yet hope I well to fare;

If I might haue my handes at wyll,
Ryght 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.

"And at the shyrife shote I wyll,
Strongly with an arrowe kene;
A better shote in mery Caerlel
Thys seven yere was not sene."

They lowsed their arrowes both at once,
Of no man had they dread;

The one hyt the justice, the other the sheryfe,
That both theyr sides gan blede.

All men voyded, that them stode nye,

When the justice fell downe to the grounde,

And the sherife fell nyghe hym by,

Eyther had his deathes wounde.

All the citezens fast gan flye,
They durst no longer abyde;
Then lyghtly they loused Cloudeslè,
When 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.

Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren two,

66

Thys daye let us togyder lyve 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,

For theyr stringes were of silke full sure, That they kept the stretes on every side: That batayle dyd longe endure.

They fought together as brethren tru,
Lyke hardy men and bolde;
Many a man to the ground they thrue,
And many a herte made colde.

But when their arrowes were all gon,

Men preced

*

on them full fast;

They drew theyr swordes then anone,

And theyr bowes from them cast.

* Pressed.

K

They went lyghtlye on theyr way,

Wyth swordes and buclers round;
By that it was the myddes of the day,
They had made mani a wound.

There was many an out-horne in Caerlel blowen, And the belles bacward did they ryng;

Many a woman sayd alas,

And many theyr hands dyd wryng.

The mayre of Caerlel forth com was,
And with hym a ful great route;
These thre yemen 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;

Many 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 great yll,
"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,
For so fast they downe were layde,
Tyll they all thre, that so manfulli fought,
Were gotten without at a braide.

"Have here your keys," sayd Adam Bel, "Myne office I here forsake ;

Yf you do by my councèll,

A new porter do ye make."

He threw the keys there at theyr heads,
And bad them evell to thryve,

And all that letteth any good yeman

To come and comfort hys wyfe.

Thus be these good yemen gon to the wod,
As lyght as lefe on lynde;

They lough and be mery in theyr mode,
Theyr ennemyes were ferre behynd.

When they came to Englyshe wode,
Under the trysty tre,

There they found bowes full good,
And arrowes full great plentye.

"So God me help," sayd Adam Bell, And Clym of the Clough so fre,

"I would we were nowe in mery Caerlel, Before that fayre meyny."

They set them downe and made good chere,
And eate and drank full well:

Here is a fet of these wyght yong men,

And another I shall you tell.

[THE THIRD FIT.]

As they sat in Englyshe-wood,

Under theyr trysty tre,

Them thought they herd 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 dere brethren,

Or with eyther of them twayne,

To let them know what him befell

My hart were out of payne!"

Cloudeslè walked a lytle besyde,

And loked under the grenewood linde; He was ware of hys wife and chyldren thre, Full wo in hart and mynde.

"Welcome, wife," then sayde Wyllyam,

"Under this trysty tre;

I had wende yesterday, by swete saynt John,

Thou shulde me never have se."

"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 my brethren two."

"Hereof to speake," sayd Adam Bell,

"I-wis it is no bote;

The meat that we must supp withall

It runneth yet fast on fote."

Then went they down into a launde,*
These noble archares all thre,
Eche of them slew a hart of greece,
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, When I was slayne full nye."

Then went they to supper

Wyth suche meat as they had, And thanked God of ther fortune; They were both mery and glad

And when they had supped well,
Certayne without any leace,

Cloudeslè sayd, "We wyll to our kyng,

To get us a charter of peace.

* Lawn.