Chapter III: Part THE SECOND

And when they came to merry Carlisle,
All in the morning tide,
They found the gates shut them against
About on every side.

Alas! then said good Adam Bell,
That ever we were made men!
These gates he shut so wondrous fast,
We may not come therein.

Then bespake him Clym of the Clough,
With a wile we will us in bring;
Let us say we be messengers,
Straight come now from our king.

Adam said, I have a letter written,
Now let us wisely work,
We will say we have the king's seal;
I hold the porter no clerk.

Then Adam Bell beat on the gates
With strokes great and strong,
The porter marvelled who was there,
And to the gates he throng.[49]

Who is there now, said the porter,
That maketh all this knocking?
We be two messengers, quoth Clym of the Clough,
Be come right 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 may again to the king.

Here cometh none in, said the porter,
By him that died on a tree,
Till a false thief be hanged up,
Called William of Cloudesly.

Then spake the good yeoman, Clym of the Clough,
And swore by Mary free,
And if that we stand long without,
Like a thief hanged thou shalt be.

Lo! here we have the king's seal:
What, Lurden,[50] art thou wood?[51]
The porter thought it had been so,
And lightly did off his hood.

Welcome is my lord's seal, he said;
For that ye shall come in.
He opened the gate full shortly;
An evil opening for him.

Now are we in, said Adam Bell,
Whereof we are full fain;
But Christ he knowes, 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 counsel,
And wrung his neck in two,
And cast him in a deep dungeon,
And took his keys him fro'.

Now am I porter, said Adam Bell,
See, brother, the keys are here,
The worst porter to merry Carlisle
That they had this hundred year.

And now will we our bows bend,
Into the town will we go,
For to deliver our dear brother,
That lyeth in care and woe.

Then they bent their good yew bows,
And looked their strings were round,
The market place in merry Carlisle
They beset that stound.[52]

And, as they looked them beside,
A pair of new gallows they see,
And the justice with a quest of squires,
Had judged William hanged to be.

And Cloudesly lay ready there in a cart,
Fast bound both foot and hand;
And a strong rope about his neck,
All ready for to hang.

The justice called to him a lad,
Cloudesly's clothes he should have,
To take the measure of that yeoman,
Thereafter to make his grave.

I have seen as great marvel, said Cloudesly,
As between this and pryme,[53]
He that maketh a grave for me
Himself may lie therein.

Thou speakest proudly, said the justice,
I will thee hang with my hand.
Full well heard this his brethren two,
There still as they did stand.

Then Cloudesly cast his eyes aside,
And saw his brethren twain
At a corner of the market place,
Ready the justice for to slain.

I see comfort, said Cloudesly,
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 you mark the justice well;
Lo! yonder you 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 dread;
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 nigh him by;
Either had his death's wound.

All the citizens fast began to fly,
They durst no longer abide:
There lightly they loosed Cloudesly,
Where he with ropes lay tied.

William start to an officer of the town,
His axe from his hand he wrung,
On each side he smote them down,
He thought he tarried too long.

William said to his brethren two,
This day let us live and die,
If ever you have need, as I have now,
The same shall you find by me.

They shot so well in that tide,
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 a heart made cold.

But when their arrows were all gone,
Men pressed to them full fast,
They drew their swords then anon,
And their bows from them cast.

They went lightly on their way,
With swords and bucklers round;
By that it was mid of the day,
They made many a wound.

There was many an out-horn[54] in Carlisle blown,
And the bells backward did ring,
Many a woman said, Alas!
And many their hands did wring.

The mayor of Carlisle forth was come,
With him a full great rout:
These yeomen dreaded him full sore,
Of their lives they stood in doubt.

The mayor came armed at full great pace,
With a pollaxe in his hand;
Many a strong man with him was,
There in that stowre[55] to stand.

The mayor smote at Cloudesly with his bill,
His buckler he burst in two,
Full many a yeoman with great evil,
Alas! Treason they cried for woe.
Keep well the gates 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, abroad.

Have here your keys, said Adam Bell,
Mine office I here forsake,
And if you do by my counsel
A new porter do ye make.

He threw their keys at their heads,
And bade them well to thrive,
And all that letteth[56] any good yeoman
To come and comfort his wife.

Thus be these good yeomen gone to the wood,
And lightly, as leaf on lynde;[57]
To laugh and be merry in their mood,
Their enemies were far behind.

And when they came to English wood,
Under the trusty tree,
There they found bows full good,
And arrows full great plenty.

So God me help, said Adam Bell,
And Clym of the Clough so free,
I would we were in merry Carlisle,
Before that fair meynye.[58]

They sate them down, and made good cheer,
And ate and drank full well.
A second FYT of the wighty yeomen,
Another I will you tell.