Many a woman sayde alas!
And many theyr handes dyd wryng.
The mayre of Carleile forth com was,
Wyth hym a ful great route:
These yemen dred hym full sore,
Of theyr lyves they stode in great doute.
The mayre came armed a full great pace,
With a pollaxe in hys hande;
Many a strong man wyth him was,
There in that stowre to stande.
The mayre smot at Cloudeslè with his bil,
Hys bucler he brast in two,
Full many a yeman with great evyll
"Alas! treason" they cryed for wo.
Kepe well the gates fast, they bad,
That these traytours therout 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,
And yf you do by my counsell
A new porter do ye make."
He threw theyr keys at theyr heads,
And bad them evell to thryve,
And all that letteth any good yeman
To come and comfort his wyfe.
Thus be these good yeman gon to the wod,
As lyghtly as lefe on lynde;
The lough and be mery in theyr mode,
Theyr enemyes were ferr behynd.
When they came to Englyshe-wode,
Under the trusty 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 wold we were in mery Carleile,
Before that fayre meynye."
They set them downe, and made good chere,
And eate and dranke full well.
A second FYT of the wightye yeomen:
Another I wyll you tell.
PART THE THIRD