Adam Bel, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesle

Merry it was in green forest,
Among the leaves green,
Where that men walk east and west,
With bows and arrows keen.

To raise the deer out of their den,--
Such sights hath oft been seen,--
As by three yeomen of the north country,
By them it is I mean.

The one of them hight Adam Bel,
The other Clym of the Clough,
The third was. William of Cloudesle,
An archer good enough.

They were outlawed for venison,
These yeomen every one;
They swore them brethren upon a day,
To English-wood for to gone.

Now lith and listen, gentlemen,
That of mirths loveth 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 Bel,
"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 tomorrow, 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 window,
Shortly and anon.

"Where be you, fair Alice, my wife,
And my children three?
Lightly let in thine own husband,
William of Cloudeslè."

"Alas!" then said fair Alice,
And sighed wondrous sore,
"This place hath been beset for you,
This half year and more."

"Now am I here," said Cloudeslè,
"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 plenty,
Like a true wedded wife,
And pleased 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,
More than seven year.

Up she rose and walked full still,
Evil mote she sped 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 Cloudeslè."

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 or thou go."

They gave to her a right good gown,
Of scarlet it was, as I heard sayen;
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 thronging to Williams house,
As fast as they might gone.

There they beset that good yeoman,
Round about on every side,
William heard great noise of folks,
That hitherward they hied.

Alice opened a shot-window,
And looked all about,
She was ware of the justice and 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 Cloudeslè."

He took his sword and his buckler,
His bow and his children three,
And went into his strongest chamber,
Where he thought surest to be.

Fair Alice followed him as a lover true,
With a pollaxe in her hand;
"He shall be dead that here cometh in
This door, while I may stand."

Cloudeslè bent a well good bow,
That was of trusty tree,
He smote the justice on the breast,
That his arrow burst in three.
"Gods 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, Cloudeslè," said the justice,
"And thy bow and thy arrows thee fro:"
"Gods curse on his heart," said fair Alice,
"That my husband counselleth so."

"Set fire on the house," said the sheriff,
"Sith it will no better be,
And we burn therein William," he said,
"His wife and children three."

They fired the house in many a place,
The fire flew up on high;
"Alas!" then cried fair Alice,
"I see we here shall die."

William opened his back window,
That was in his chamber on high,
And with sheets let his wife down,
And his children three.

"Have here my treasure," said William,
"My wife and my children three,
For Christ's love do them no harm,
But wreak you all on me."

William shot so wondrous well,
Till his arrows were all ygo,
And the fire so fast upon him fell,
That his bowstring brent in two.

The spercles brent and fell him on,
Good William of Cloudesle!
But then wax he a woeful man,
And said, "this is a coward's death to me.

"Liever I had," said William,
"With my sword in the rout to renne,
Then here among mine ennemies wode,
Thus cruelly to bren."

He took his sword and his buckler,
And among them all he ran;
Where the people were most in press,
He smote down many a man.

There might no man stand his stroke,
So fiercely on them he ran;
Then they threw windows and doors on him,
And so took that good yeoman.

There they him bound both hand and foot,
And in deep dungeon him cast;
"Now, Cloudesle," said the high justice,
"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 the gates of Carlisle shall be shut,
There shall no man come in thereat.

"Then shall not help Clym of the Clough,
Nor yet shall Adam Bel,
Though they came with a thousand more,
Nor all the devils in hell."

Early in the morning the justice uprose,
To the gates first gan he gone,
And commanded to be shut full close
Lightilè everyone.

Then went he to the market place,
As fast as he could hie;
A pair of new gallows there did he up set,
Beside the pillory.

A little boy stood them among,
And asked what meaned that gallow tree -,
They said, "to hang a good yeoman,
Called William of Cloudeslè."

That little boy was the town swine-herd,
And kept fair Alice swine,
Oft he had seen Cloudeslè 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 young men,
Shortly and anon.

"Alas!" then said that little boy,
"Ye tarry here all too long;
Cloudesle is taken and damned to death,
All ready for to hong."

"Alas!" then said good Adam Bel,
"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 forest,
Under the shadows sheen,
And have kept both him and us in rest,
Out of 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 young men,
"Tarry we no longer here;
We shall him borrow, by God's grace,
Though we buy it full dear."

To Carlisle went these good yeomen,
On a merry morning of May:
Here is a fit of Cloudeslè,
And another is for to say.

[THE SECOND FIT.]
And when they came to merry Carlisle,
In a fair 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 work;
We will say we have the king's seal,
I hold the porter no clerk."

Then Adam Bel beat on the gate,
With strokes great and strong;
The porter heard such noise thereat,
And to the gate fast 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 Bel,
"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 a false thief be hanged,
Called William of Cloudeslè.

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 shalt thou be.

"Lo here we have the kings seal;
What! lordeyne, art thou wode?"
The porter wend it had been so,
And lightly did off his hode.

"Welcome be 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 Bel,
"Thereof we are full fain,
But Christ 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 council,
And wrang his neck in two,
And cast him in a deep dungeon,
And took his keys him fro.

"Now am I porter," said Adam Bel,
"See, brother, the keys, have we here;
The worst porter to merry Carlisle,
That ye had this hundred year.

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

[And thereupon] they bent their bows,
And looked their strings were round;
The market place of merry Carlisle,
They beset in that stound.

And as they looked them beside,
A pair of new gallows there they see,
And the justice with a quest of swearers,
That had judged Cloudeslè there hanged to be.

And Cloudeslè himself lay ready 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,
Cloudeslès clothes should he have,
To take the measure of that good yeoman,
And thereafter to make his grave.

"I have seen as great a marvel," said Cloudeslè,
"As between this and prime,
He that maketh this grave for me,
Himself may lie therein."

"Thou speakest proudly," said the justice,
"I shall thee hang with my hand:"
Full well that heard his brethren-two,
There still as they did stand.

Then Cloudeslè cast his eyen aside,
And saw his two brethren stand,
At a corner of the market place,
With their good bows bent in their hand.

"I see good comfort," said Cloudeslè,
"Yet hope I well to fare;
If I might have my hands at will,
Right little would I care."

Then spake good Adam Bel,
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 an 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 down to the ground,
And the sheriff fell nigh him by,
Either had had his deaths wound.
All the citizens fast gan fly,
They durst no longer abide;
Then lightly they loosed Cloudeslè,
When he with ropes lay tied.

William stert to an officer of the town,
His axe out of his hand he wrong,
On each side he smote them down,
Him thought he tarried all too long.

William said to his brethren two,
"This day let us together 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,
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 a heart made cold.

But when their arrows were all gone,
Men pressed on 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 the middle of the day,
They had made many a wound.

There was many an out-horn in Carlisle blowen,
And the bells backward did they 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 of their lives they stood in great doubt.

The mayor came armed a full great pace,
With a pollaxe in his hand;
Many a strong man with him was,
There in that stour to stand.
The mayor smote at Cloudesle 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 gates fast," they bad,
"That these traitors theréout 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 Bel,
"Mine office I here forsake;
If you do by my counsèl,
A new porter do ye make."

He threw the keys there at their heads,
And bad them evil to thrive,
And all that letteth any good yeoman
To come and comfort his wife.

Thus be these good yeomen gone to the wood,
As light as leaf on lind;
They laugh and be merry in their mood,
Their enemies were far behind.

When they came to English wood,
Under the try sty tree,
There they found bows full good,
And arrows full great plenty.

"So God me help," said Adam Bel,
And Clym of the Clough so free,
"I would we were now in merry Carlisle,
Before that fair meany."

They set them down and made good cheer,
And eat and drank full well:
Here is a fit of these wight young men,
And another I shall you tell.

[THE THIRD FIT.]
As they sat in English-wood,
Under their trysty tree,
Them thought they heard a woman weep,
But her they might not see.

Sore then sighed the fair Alice,
And said, "Alas that ever I saw this day!
For now is my dear husband slain,
Alas and well a way!

"Might I have spoken with his dear brethren,
Or with either of them twain,
[To let them know what him befell]
My heart were out of pain!"

Cloudeslè walked a little beside,
And looked under the greenwood lind;
He was ware of his wife and children three,
Full woe in heart and mind.

"Welcome, wife," then said William,
"Under this try sty 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 Bel,
"I-wis it is no boot;
The meat that we must sup withal
It runneth yet fast on foot."

Then went they down into a laund,
These noble archers all three,
Each of them slew a hart of grice,
The best they could there see.
"Have here the best, Alice, my wife,"
Said William of Cloudeslè,
"Because ye so boldly stood by me,
When I was slain full nigh.

Then went they to supper,
With such meat as they had,
And thanked God of their fortune;
They were both merry and glad.

And when they had supped well,
Certain without any lease,
Cloudesle said, "We will to our king,
To get us a charter of peace.

"Alice shall be at sojourning,
In a nunnery here beside;
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 might hie,
Till they came to the kings palace,
Where they would needs be.

And when they came to the king's court,
Unto the palace gate,
Of no man would they aske no leave,
But boldly went in thereat.

They pressed prestly into the hall,
Of no man had they dread;
The porter came after and did them call,
And with them began to chide.

The usher said, "Yeomen, what would ye have?
I pray you tell me;
You might thus make officers shent:
Good sirs, of whence be ye?"

"Sir, we be outlaws of the forest,
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 kneeled down without letting,
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 Bel, Clym of the Clough,
And William of Cloudeslè."

"Be ye those thieves," then said our king,
"That men have told of to me?
Here to God I make a vow,
Ye shall be hanged all three.

Ye shall be dead without mercy,
As I am king of this land."
He commanded his officers everyone
Fast on them to lay hand.

There they took these good yeomen,
And arrested them all three:
"So may I thrive," said Adam Bel,
"This game liketh not me.

"But, good lord, we beseech you now,
That you grant us grace,
Insomuch as we be to you comen,
Or else that we may fro you pass,

"With such weapons as we have here,
Till we be out of your place;
And if we live this hundreth year,
We will ask you 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,
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, my good lord, I you beseech,
These yeomen grant ye me:"
"Madam, ye might have asked a boon
That should have been worth them all three.

"Ye might have asked towers and towns,
Parks and forests plenty."
"None so pleasant to me pay," she said,
"Nor none so lief to me."

"Madam, sith it is your desire,
Your asking granted shall be;
But I had liefer have given you
Good market towns three."

The queen was a glad woman,
And said, "Lord, gramercy;
I dare undertake for them,
That true men shall they be.

"But, good lord, speak some merry word,
That comfort they may see."
"I grant you grace," then said our king,
"Wash, fellows, and to meat go ye."

They had not setten but a while,
Certain without leasing,
There came messengers out of the north,
With letters to our king.

And when they came before the king,
They kneeled down upon their knee,
And said, "Lord, your officers greet you well,
Of Carlisle in the north countrè."

"How fares my justice," said the king,
"And my sheriff also?"
"Sir, they be slain, without leasing,
And many an officer moe."

"Who hath them slain?" said the king,
"Anon thou tell me:"
"Adam Bel, and Clym of the Clough,
And William of Cloudeslè."

"Alas for ruth!" then said our king,
"My heart is wondrous sore;
I had liefer than a thousand pound,
I had known of this before.

"For I have granted them grace,
And that forthinketh me,
But had I known all this before,
They had been hanged all three."

The king opened the letter anon,
Himself he read it thro,
And found how these three outlaws had slain
Three hundred men and moe.

First the justice and the sheriff,
And the mayor of Carlisle town;
Of all the constables and catchpolls
Alive were left not one.

The bailiffs and the beadle both,
And the sergeants of the law,
And forty fosters of the fee,
These outlaws had yslaw,

And broke his parks, and slain his deer;
Over all they chose the best;
So perilous outlaws as they were,
Walked not by east nor west.

When the king this letter had read,
In his heart he sighed sore;
"Take up the table anon," he bad,
"For I may eat no more."

The king called his best archers,
To the butts with him to go;
"I will see these fellows shoot," he said,
"In the north have wrought this woe."

The kings bowmen busk them blithe,
And the queen's archers also,
So did these three wight yeomen,
With them they thought to go.

There twice or thrice they shot about,
For to essay their hand;
There was no shot these yeomen shot,
That any prick might them stand.

Then spake William of Cloudeslè,
"By Him that for me died,
I hold him never no good archer
That shooteth at butts so wide."

"Whereat?" then said our king,
"I pray thee tell me:"
"At such a butt, sir," he said,
"As men use in my countre."

William went into a field,
And his two brethren with him,
There they set up two hazel rods,
Twenty score paces between.

"I hold him an archer," said Cloudeslè,
"That yonder wand cleaveth in two:
"Here is none such," said the king,
"Nor none that can so do."

"I shall essay, sir," said Cloudeslè,
"Or that I farther go:"
Cloudeslè, with a bearing arrow,
Clave the wand in two.

"Thou art the best archer," then said the king,
"Forsooth that ever I see
"And yet for your love," said William,
"I will do more maistry.

"I have a son is seven year old,
He is to me full dear;
I will him tie to a stake,
All shall see that be here;

"And lay an apple upon his head,
And go six score paces him fro,
And I myself, with a broad arrow,
Shall cleave the apple in two."

"Now haste thee," then said the king,
"By Him that died on a tree;
But if thou do not as thou hast said,
Hanged shalt thou be.

"And thou touch his head or gown,
In sight that men may see,
By all the saints that be in heaven,
I shall hang you all three."

"That I have promised," said William,
"I will it never forsake;"
And there even before the king,
In the earth he drove a stake,

And bound thereto his eldest son,
And bad him stand still thereat,
And turned the child's face fro him,
Because he should not start.

An apple upon his head he set,
And then his bow he bent;
Six score paces they were out met,
And thither Cloudesle went.

There he drew out a fair broad arrow,
His bow was great and long,
He set that arrow in his bow,
That was both stiff and strong.

He prayed the people that was there,
That they would still stand,
"For he that shooteth for such a wager,
Behoveth a stedfast hand."

Much people prayed for Cloudeslè,
That his life saved might be,
And when he made him ready to shoot,
There was many a weeping eye.

Thus Cloudeslè cleft the apple in two,
That many a man might see;
"Over God's forbode," said the king,
"That thou shoot at me!

"I give thee xviii. pence a day,
And my bow shalt thou bear,
And over all the north count re,
I make thee chief rider,"

"And I give thee xvii. pence a day," said the queen,
"By God and by my fay;
Come fetch thy payment when thou wilt,
No man shall say thee nay.

"William, I make thee a gentleman,
Of clothing and of fee,
And thy two brethren yeomen of my chamber,
For they are so seemly to see.

"Your son, for he is tender of age,
Of my wine-cellar shall he be,
And when he cometh to man's estate,
Better avaunced shall he be.

"And, William, bring me your wife," saidthe queen,
"Me longeth her sore to see;
She shall be my chief gentlewoman,
To govern my nursery."

The yeomen thanketh them full courteously,
And said, "To some bishop will we wend,
Of all the sins that we have done
To be assoiled at his hand."

So forth be gone these good yeomen,
As fast as they might hie,
And after came and dwelled with the king,
And died good men all three.

Thus endeth the lives of these good yeomen,
God send them eternal bliss,
And all that with hand bow shooteth,
That of heaven may never miss.