He threw the keys there at theyr heads, And bad them evil to thryve, And all that letteth any good yoman To come and comfort his wyfe.

94.

Thus be these good yomen gon to the wode, As lyghtly as lefe on lynde; They laugh and be mery in theyr mode, Theyr enemyes were farr behynde.

95.

Whan they came to Inglyswode, Under their trysty-tre, There they found bowes full good, And arrowes great plente.

96.

'So help me G.o.d,' sayd Adam Bell, And Clym of the Clough so fre, 'I would we were nowe in mery Carlile, Before that fayre meyne.'

97.

They set them downe, and made good chere, And eate and dranke full well.

Here is a fytte of the wight yongemen: And another I shall you tell.

98.

As they sat in Inglyswood, Under theyr trysty-tre, They thought they herd a woman wepe, But her they myght not se.

99.

Sore syghed there fayre Alyce, and sayd, 'Alas, that ever I see thys day!

For nowe is my dere husband slayne: Alas! and wel-a-way!

100.

'Myght I have spoken wyth hys dere brethren, With eyther of them twayne, To show to them what him befell, My hart were out of payne.'

101.

Cloudesle walked a lytle beside, And looked under the grene wood lynde, He was ware of his wife and chyldren three, Full wo in herte and mynde.

102.

'Welcome, wyfe,' than sayde Wyllyam, 'Unto this trysty-tre: I had wende yesterday, by swete saynt John, Thou sholde me never have se.'

103.

'Now well is me,' she sayd, 'that ye be here, My harte is out of wo.'

'Dame,' he sayde, 'be mery and glad, And thanke my brethren two.'

104.

'Herof to speake,' said Adam Bell, 'I-wis it is no bote: The meate, that we must supp withall, It runneth yet fast on fote.'

105.

Then went they downe into a launde, These n.o.ble archares all thre; Eche of them slew a hart of grece, The best they cold there se.

106.

'Have here the best, Alyce my wyfe,'

Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudeslye, 'By cause ye so boldly stode me by Whan I was slayne full nye.'

107.

Than went they to theyr suppere Wyth suche meate as they had; And thanked G.o.d of ther fortune: They were both mery and glad.

108.

And when they had supped well, Certayne withouten lease, Cloudesle sayd, 'We wyll to our kyng, To get us a charter of peace.

109.

'Alyce shal be at sojournyng In a nunnery here besyde; My two sonnes shall wyth her go, And there they shall abyde.

110.

'Myne eldest son shall go wyth me; For hym have I no care: And he shall bring you worde agayn, How that we do fare.'

111.

Thus be these wight men to London gone, As fast as they maye hye, Tyll they came to the kynges pallace; There they woulde nedes be.

112.

And whan they came to the kynges courte, Unto the pallace gate, Of no man wold they aske leave, But boldly went in therat.

113.

They presyd prestly into the hall, Of no man had they dreade: The porter came after, and dyd them calle, And with them began to chyde.

114.

The usher sayde, 'Yemen, what wold ye have?

I pray you tell to me: You myght thus make offycers shent: Good syrs, of whence be ye?'

115.

'Syr, we be outlawes of the forest Certayne withouten lease; And hyther we be come to our kyng, To get us a charter of peace.'

116.

And whan they came before the kyng, As it was the lawe of the lande, They kneled downe without lettyng, And eche held up his hand.

117.

They sayed, 'Lord, we beseche you here, That ye wyll graunt us grace; For we have slayne your fat falow dere In many a sondry place.'

118.

'What is your names,' than said our king, 'Anone that you tell me?'

They sayd, 'Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, And Wyllyam of Cloudesle.'

119.

'Be ye those theves,' than sayd our kyng, 'That men have tolde of to me?

Here to G.o.d I make a vowe, Ye shal be hanged al thre.

120.

'Ye shal be dead without mercy, As I am kynge of this lande.'

He commanded his officers everichone, Fast on them to lay hande.

121.

There they toke these good yemen, And arested them al thre: 'So may I thryve,' sayd Adam Bell, 'Thys game lyketh not me.

122.

'But, good lorde, we beseche you now, That ye wyll graunt us grace, Insomuche as we be to you comen, Or elles that we may fro you pa.s.se,

123.

'With such weapons, as we have here, Tyll we be out of your place; And yf we lyve this hondred yere, We wyll aske you no grace.'