Chapter 3

SHE. "I shall as now do more for you Than 'longeth to womanhede; To short my hair, a bow to bear, To shoot in time of need. O my sweet mother! before all other For you have I most drede! But now, adieu! I must ensue, Where fortune doth me lead. All this make ye. Now let us flee; The day comes fast upon: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "Nay, nay, not so; ye shall not go, And I shall tell you why,-- Your appetite is to be light Of love, I well espy: For, right as ye have said to me, In like wise hardily Ye would answere whosoever it were, In way of company, It is said of old, Soon hot, soon cold; And so is a wom-an: Wherefore I to the wood will go, Alone, a banished man."

SHE. "If ye take heed, it is no need Such words to say by me; For oft ye prayed, and long assayed, Or I you loved, pard-e; And though that I of ancestry A baron's daughter be, Yet have you proved how I you loved. A squire of low degree; And ever shall, whatso befall; To die therefore anone; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "A baron's child to be beguiled! It were a curs-ed dede; To be fel-aw with an out-law Almighty God forbede! Yet better were, the poor squyere Alone to forest yede, Than ye shall say another day, That by my wicked dede Ye were betrayed: Wherefore, good maid, The best rede that I can, Is, that I to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man."

SHE. "Whatsoever befall, I never shall Of this thing you upbraid: But if ye go, and leave me so, Then have ye me betrayed. Remember you wele, how that ye dele, For if ye, as ye said, Be so unkind to leave behind Your love, the Nut-brown Maid, Trust me tru-ly, that I shall die Soon after ye be gone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "If that ye went, ye should repent; For in the forest now I have purveyed me of a maid, Whom I love more than you; Another fairer than ever ye were, I dare it well avow; And of you both, each should be wroth With other, as I trow: It were mine ease to live in peace; So will I, if I can: Wherefore I to the wood will go, Alone, a banished man."

SHE. "Though in the wood I understood Ye had a paramour, All this may nought remove my thought, But that I will be your: And she shall find me soft and kind, And courteis every hour; Glad to fulfil all that she will Command me, to my power: For had ye, lo! an hundred mo, Yet would I be that one: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "Mine own dear love, I see the proof That ye be kind and true; Of maid, and wife, in all my life, The best that ever I knew. Be merry and glad; be no more sad; The case is chang-ed new; For it were ruth that for your truth You should have cause to rue. Be not dismayed, whatsoever I said To you, when I began: I will not to the green wood go; I am no banished man."

SHE. "These tidings be more glad to me, Than to be made a queen, If I were sure they should endure: But it is often seen, When men will break promise they speak The wordis on the spleen. Ye shape some wile me to beguile, And steal from me, I ween: Then were the case worse than it was And I more wo-begone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "Ye shall not nede further to drede: I will not dispar-age You (God defend!), sith you descend Of so great a lin-age. Now understand: to Westmoreland, Which is my heritage, I will you bring; and with a ring By way of marri-age I will you take, and lady make, As shortly as I can: Thus have ye won an earl-es son And not a banished man."

Here may ye see, that women be In love, meek, kind, and stable; Let never man reprove them than, Or call them vari-able; But, rather, pray God that we may To them be comfort-able, Which sometime proveth such as he loveth, If they be charit-able. For sith men would that women should Be meek to them each one; Much more ought they to God obey, And serve but Him alone.

ADAM BELL, CLYM OF THE CLOUGH, AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLIE.

THE FIRST FYTTE.

Merry it was in green for-est, Among the leav-es green, Where that men walk both east and west With bows and arrows keen, To raise the deer out of their den, Such sights as hath oft been seen; As by three yeomen of the North Countrey: By them is as I mean.

The one of them hight Adam Bell, The other Clym of the Clough, The third was William of Cloudeslie, An archer good enough. They were outlawed for venison, These three yeomen every one; They swore them brethren upon a day, To Ingle wood for to gone.

Now lith and listen, gentlemen, And that of mirths love to hear: Two of them were single men, The third had a wedded fere. William was the wedded man, Much more then was his care; He said to his brethren upon a day, To Carlisle he would fare,

For to speak with fair Alice his wife, And with his children three. "By my troth," said Adam Bell, "Not by the counsel of me: For if ye go to Carlisle, brother, And from this wild wood wend, If the Justice may you take, Your life were at an end."--

"If that I come not to-morrow, brother, By prime to you again, Trust not else but that I am take, Or else that I am slain."-- He took his leave of his brethren two, And to Carlisle he is gone. There he knocked at his own wind-ow Shortly and anon.

"Where be you, fair Alice, my wife? And my children three? Lightly let in thine husb-and, William of Cloudeslie."-- "Alas," then saide fair Al-ice, And sigh-ed wondrous sore, "This place hath been beset for you, This half-e year and more."

"Now am I here," said Cloudeslie, "I would that I in were;-- Now fetch us meat and drink enough, And let us make good cheer." She fetched him meat and drink plent-y, Like a true wedded wife, And pleas-ed him with that she had, Whom she loved as her life.

There lay an old wife in that place, A little beside the fire, Which William had found of charity Mor-e than seven year; Up she rose, and walked full still, Evil mote she speed therefore: For she had not set no foot on ground In seven year before.

She went unto the justice hall, As fast as she could hie: "This night is come unto this town William of Cloudeslie." Thereof the Justice was full fain, And so was the Sheriff also; "Thou shalt not travel hither, dame, for nought, Thy meed thou shalt have, ere thou go."

They gave to her a right good gown, Of scarlet it was, as I heard sain; She took the gift and home she went, And couched her down again. They raised the town of merry Carlisle, In all the haste that they can, And came throng-ing to William's house, As fast as they might gan.

There they beset that good yeo-man, Round about on every side; William heard great noise of folks, That hitherward hied. Alice opened a shot wind-ow, And look-ed all about She was ware of the Justice and the Sheriff both, With a full great rout.

"Alas, treason!" cried Alice, "Ever woe may thou be!-- Go into my chamber, my husband," she said, "Sweet William of Cloudeslie." He took his sword and his buckl-er, His bow and his children three, And went into his strongest chamber, Where he thought surest to be.

Fair Al-ice followed him as a lover true, With a poleaxe in her hand: "He shall be dead that here cometh in This door, while I may stand." Cloudeslie bent a well-good bow, That was of trusty tree, He smote the Justice on the breast, That his arrow burst in three.

"God's curse on his heart!" said William, "This day thy coat did on, If it had been no better than mine, It had gone near thy bone!" "Yield thee, Cloudeslie," said the Justice, "And thy bow and thy arrows thee fro!" "God's curse on his heart," said fair Al-ice, "That my husband counselleth so!"

"Set fire on the house," said the Sheriff, "Sith it will no better be, And burn we therein William," he said, "His wife and his children three!" They fired the house in many a place, The fire flew up on high; "Alas," then cried fair Al-ice, "I see we shall here die!"

William opened his back wind-ow, That was in his chamber on high, And with shet-es let his wif-e down, And his children three. "Have here my treasure," said Willi-am, "My wife and my children three; For Christ-es love do them no harm, But wreak you all on me."

William shot so wondrous well, Till his arrows were all gone, And the fire so fast upon him fell, That his bowstring burnt in two. The sparkles burnt, and fell upon, Good William of Cloudeslie! But then was he a woeful man, and said, "This is a coward's death to me.

"Liever I had," said Willi-am, "With my sword in the rout to run, Than here among mine enemies' wood, Thus cruelly to burn." He took his sword and his buckler then, And among them all he ran, Where the people were most in press, He smote down many a man.

There might no man abide his stroke, So fiercely on them he ran; Then they threw windows and doors on him, And so took that good yeom-an. There they bound him hand and foot, And in a deep dungeon him cast: "Now, Cloudeslie," said the high Just-ice, "Thou shalt be hanged in haste!"

"One vow shall I make," said the Sheriff, "A pair of new gallows shall I for thee make, And all the gates of Carlisle shall be shut, There shall no man come in thereat. Then shall not help Clym of the Clough Nor yet Adam Bell, Though they came with a thousand mo, Nor all the devils in hell."

Early in the morning the Justice uprose, To the gates fast gan he gone, And commanded to shut close Lightly every one; Then went he to the market-place, As fast as he could hie, A pair of new gallows there he set up, Beside the pillor-y.

A little boy stood them among, And asked what meant that gallows tree; They said-e, "To hang a good yeoman, Called William of Cloudeslie." That little boy was the town swineherd, And kept fair Alice' swine, Full oft he had seen William in the wood, And given him there to dine.

He went out at a crevice in the wall, And lightly to the wood did gone; There met he with these wight yeomen, Shortly and anon. "Alas!" then said that little boy, "Ye tarry here all too long! Cloudeslie is taken and damned to death, And ready for to hong."

"Alas!" then said good Adam Bell, "That ever we see this day! He might here with us have dwelled, So oft as we did him pray. He might have tarried in green for-est, Under the shadows sheen, And have kept both him and us at rest, Out of all trouble and teen."

Adam bent a right good bow, A great hart soon had he slain: "Take that, child," he said, "to thy dinner, And bring me mine arrow again." "Now go we hence," said these wight yeomen, "Tarry we no longer here; We shall him borrow, by God's grace, Though we abye it full dear."

To Carlisle went these good yeom-en On a merry morning of May. Here is a fytte of Cloudeslie, And another is for to say.

THE SECOND FYTTE.

And when they came to merry Carlisle, All in a morning tide, They found the gates shut them until, Round about on every side. "Alas," then said good Adam Bell, "That ever we were made men! These gates be shut so wonderly well, That we may not come here in."

Then spake him Clym of the Clough: "With a wile we will us in bring; Let us say we be messengers, Straight comen from our King." Adam said: "I have a letter written well, Now let us wisely werk; We will say we have the King-e's seal, I hold the porter no clerk."

Then Adam Bell beat on the gate, With strok-es great and strong; The porter heard such noise thereat, And to the gate he throng. "Who is there now," said the porter, "That maketh all this knocking?" "We be two messengers," said Clym of the Clough, "Be comen straight from our King."

"We have a letter," said Adam Bell, "To the Justice we must it bring; Let us in our message to do, That we were again to our King." "Here cometh no man in," said the porter, "By him that died on a tree, Till that a false thief be hanged, Called William of Cloudeslie!"

Then spake the good yeoman Clym of the Clough, And swore by Mary free, "If that we stand-e long without, Like a thief hanged shalt thou be. Lo here we have the King-es seal; What, lourdain, art thou wood?" The porter weened it had been so, And lightly did off his hood.

"Welcome be my lord's seal," said he, "For that shall ye come in." He opened the gate right shortelie, An evil open-ing for him. "Now are we in," said Adam Bell, "Thereof we are full fain, But Christ he knoweth, that harrowed hell, How we shall come out again."

"Had we the keys," said Clym of the Clough, "Right well then should we speed; Then might we come out well enough When we see time and need." They called the porter to a couns-el, And wrung his neck in two, And cast him in a deep dunge-on, And took the keys him fro.

"Now am I porter," said Adam Bell; "See, brother, the keys have we here; The worst port-er to merry Carlisle They have had this hundred year: And now will we our bow-es bend, Into the town will we go, For to deliver our dear broth-er, That lieth in care and woe."

They bent their good yew bow-es, And looked their strings were round, The market-place of merry Carlisle They beset in that stound; And as they look-ed them beside, A pair of new gallows there they see, And the Justice with a quest of squires, That judged William hang-ed to be.

And Cloudeslie lay ready there in a cart, Fast bound both foot and hand, And a strong rope about his neck, All ready for to be hanged. The Justice called to him a lad, Cloudeslie's clothes should he have To take the measure of that yeom-an, Thereafter to make his grave.

"I have seen as great marvel," said Cloudeslie, "As between this and prime; He that maketh this grave for me, Himself may lie therein."-- "Thou speakest proudly," said the Justice; "I shall hang thee with my hand." Full well that heard his brethren two, There still as they did stand.

Then Cloudeslie cast his eyen aside, And saw his two brethren At a corner of the market-place, Ready the Justice to slain. "I see good comfort," said Cloudeslie, "Yet hope I well to fare; If I might have my hands at will, Right little would I care."

Then spake good Adam Bell To Clym of the Clough so free, "Brother, see ye mark the Justice well; Lo, yonder ye may him see; And at the Sheriff shoot I will Strongly with arrow keen." A better shot in merry Carlisle This seven year was not seen.

They loosed their arrows both at once, Of no man had they drede; The one hit the Justice, the other the Sheriff, That both their sides gan bleed. All men voided, that them stood nigh, When the Justice fell to the ground, And the Sheriff fell nigh him by, Either had his death's wound.

All the citizens fast gan flee, They durst no longer abide; Then lightly they loos-ed Cloudeslie, Where he with ropes lay tied. William stert to an officer of the town, His axe out of his hand he wrong, On each-e side he smote them down, Him thought he tarried too long.

William said to his brethren two: "Together let us live and dee; If e'er you have need, as I have now, The same shall ye find by me." They shot so well in that tide, For their strings were of silk full sure, That they kept the streets on every side, That battle did long endure.

They fought together as brethren true, Like hardy men and bold; Many a man to the ground they threw, And many an heart made cold. But when their arrows were all gone, Men pressed to them full fast; They drew their sword-es then anon, And their bow-es from them cast.

They went lightly on their way, With swords and bucklers round; By that it was the middes of the day, They had made many a wound. There was many a neat-horn in Carlisle blown, And the bells back-ward did ring; Many a woman said "Alas!" And many their hands did wring.

The Mayor of Carlisle forth come was, And with him a full great rout; These three yeomen dread him full sore, For their lives stood in doubt. The Mayor came armed a full great pace, With a poleaxe in his hand; Many a strong man with him was, There in that stour to stand.

The Mayor smote Cloudeslie with his bill, His buckler he burst in two; Full many a yeoman with great ill, "Alas! treason!" they cried for woe. "Keep we the gat-es fast," they bade, "That these traitors thereout not go!"

But all for nought was that they wrought, For so fast they down were laid, Till they all three that so manfully fought, Were gotten without at a braid. "Have here your keys," said Adam Bell, "Mine office I here forsake; If you do by my coun-sel, A new port-er do ye make."

He threw the keys there at their heads, And bade them evil to thrive, And all that letteth any good yeo-man To come and comfort his wife. Thus be these good yeomen gone to the wood, As light as leaf on linde; They laugh and be merry in their mood, Their en'mies were far behind.

When they came to Inglewood, Under their trysting tree, There they found bow-es full good, And arrows great plent-y. "So help me God," said Adam Bell, And Clym of the Clough so free, "I would we were now in merry Carlisle, Before that fair meynie!"

They sit them down and make good cheer, And eat and drink full well.-- Here is a fytte of these wight yeomen, And another I shall you tell.

THE THIRD FYTTE.

As they sat in Inglewood Under their trysting tree, They thought they heard a woman weep, But her they might not see. Sore there sigh-ed fair Al-ice, And said, "Alas that e'er I see this day! For now is my dear husband slain: Alas, and well away!

"Might I have spoken with his dear brethren, With either of them twain, To show-e them what him befell, My heart were out of pain." Cloudeslie walked a little beside, And looked under the greenwood linde; He was ware of his wife and his children three, Full woe in heart and mind.

"Welcome, wife," then said Willi-am, "Under this trysting tree! I had weened yesterday, by sweet Saint John, Thou should me never have see." "Now well is me," she said, "that ye be here! My heart is out of woe."-- "Dame," he said, "be merry and glad, And thank my brethren two."

"Hereof to speak," said Adam Bell, "Iwis it is no boot; The meat that we must sup withal It runneth yet fast on foot." Then went they down into the launde, These noble archers all three; Each of them slew a hart of grease, The best that they could see.

"Have here the best, Al-ice, my wife," Said William of Cloudeslie, "Because ye so boldly stood me by When I was slain full nie." And then they went to their supp-er With such meat as they had, And thanked God of their fort-une; They were both merry and glad.

And when that they had supp-ed well, Certain withouten lease, Cloudeslie said: "We will to our King, To get us a charter of peace; Al-ice shall be at our sojourning, In a nunnery here beside, And my two sons shall with her go, And there they shall abide.

"Mine eldest son shall go with me, For him have I no care, And he shall bring you word again How that we do fare." Thus be these yeomen to London gone, As fast as they may hie, Till they came to the King's pal-ace, Where they would needs be.

And when they came to the King-es court, Unto the palace gate, Of no man would they ask no leave, But boldly went in thereat. They press-ed prestly into the hall, Of no man had they dread; The porter came after, and did them call, And with them gan to chide.

The usher said: "Yeomen, what would ye have? I pray you tell to me; You might thus make officers shent, Good sirs, of whence be ye?" "Sir, we be outlaws of the for-est, Certain without any lease, And hither we be come to our King, To get us a charter of peace."--

And when they came before the King, As it was the law of the land, They kneel-ed down without lett-ing, And each held up his hand. They said: "Lord, we beseech thee here, That ye will grant us grace: For we have slain your fat fallow deer In many a sundry place."--

"What be your names?" then said our King, "Anon that you tell me." They said: "Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, And William of Cloudeslie."-- "Be ye those thieves," then said our King, "That men have told of to me? Here to God I make avowe Ye shall be hanged all three!

"Ye shall be dead without merc-y, As I am King of this land." He commanded his officers every one Fast on them to lay hand. There they took these good yeomen; And arrested them all three. "So may I thrive," said Adam Bell, "This game liketh not me.

"But, good lord, we beseech you now, That ye will grant us grace, Insomuch as we be to you comen; Or else that we may fro you pace With such weapons as we have here, Till we be out of your place; And if we live this hundred year, Of you we will ask no grace."--

"Ye speak proudly," said the King; "Ye shall be hanged all three." "That were great pity," then said the Queen, "If any grace might be. My lord, when I came first into this land, To be your wedded wife, Ye said the first boon that I would ask, Ye would grant it me belife.

"And I asked never none till now: Therefore, good lord, grant it me." "Now ask it, madam," said the King, "And granted shall it be."-- "Then, good my lord, I you beseech, These yeomen grant ye me."-- "Madam, ye might have asked a boon, That should have been worth them all three: