Ballads of Robin Hood and other Outlaws Part 34

The porter had wende it had ben so, And lyghtly dyd off hys hode.

62.

'Welcome be my lordes seale,' saide he; 'For that ye shall come in.'

He opened the gate right shortly: An evyl openyng for him!

63.

'Now we are in,' sayde Adam Bell, 'Therof we are full faine; But Christ knoweth, that harowed h.e.l.l, How we shall com out agayne.'

64.

'Had we the keys,' said Clim of the Clough, 'Ryght wel than shoulde we spede, Than might we come out wel ynough Whan we se tyme and nede.'

65.

They called the porter to a councell, And wrong his necke in two, And caste hym in a depe dongeon, And toke the keys hym fro.

66.

'Now am I porter,' sayd Adam Bel, 'Se, brother, the keys have we here, The worst porter to mery Carlile That ye had thys hondreth yere.

67.

'Now wyll we our bowes bend, Into the towne wyll we go, For to delyver our dere brother, Where he lyeth in care and wo.'

68.

Then they bent theyr good yew bowes, And loked theyr stringes were round; The markett place of mery Carlile They beset in that stound.

69.

And, as they loked them besyde, A paire of new galowes there they see, And the justice with a quest of squyers, That judged William hanged to be.

70.

And Cloudesle hymselfe lay ready in a cart Fast bound both fote and hand; And a stronge rope about hys necke, All readye for to be hangde.

71.

The justice called to him a ladde, Cloudesles clothes shold he have, To take the measure of that good yoman, And thereafter to make hys grave.

72.

'I have sene as great a mervaile,' said Cloudesle, 'As betweyne thys and pryme, He that maketh thys grave for me, Hymselfe may lye therin.'

73.

'Thou speakest proudlye,' said the justice, 'I shall hange thee with my hande.'

Full wel that herd his brethren two There styl as they dyd stande.

74.

Then Cloudesle cast his eyen asyde, And saw hys brethren stande At a corner of the market place, With theyr good bowes bent in theyr hand, Redy the justyce for to chase.

75.

'I se good comfort,' sayd Cloudesle, 'Yet hope I well to fare, If I might have my handes at wyll Ryght lytel wold I care.'

76.

Than bespake good Adam Bell To Clym of the Clough so free, 'Brother, se ye marke the justyce wel; Lo! yonder ye may him se:

77.

'And at the shyrife shote I wyll Strongly wyth an arrowe kene; A better shote in mery Carlile Thys seven yere was not sene.'

78.

They loosed their arrowes both at once, Of no man had they drede; The one hyt the justice, the other the sheryfe, That both theyr sides gan blede.

79.

All men voyded, that them stode nye, Whan the justice fell to the grounde, And the sherife fell nye hym by; Eyther had his deathes wounde.

80.

All the citezens fast gan fle, They durst no longer abyde: There lyghtly they loosed Cloudeslee, Where he with ropes lay tyde.

81.

Wyllyam stert to an officer of the towne, Hys axe out hys hand he wronge, On eche syde he smote them downe, Hym thought he had taryed too long.

82.

Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren two, 'Thys daye let us lyve and die, If ever you have nede, as I have now, The same shall you finde by me.'

83.

They shot so well in that tyde, For theyr stringes were of silke ful sure, That they kept the stretes on every side; That batayle did long endure.

84.

They fought together as brethren true, Lyke hardy men and bolde, Many a man to the ground they threw, And made many an herte colde.

85.

But whan their arrowes were all gon, Men presyd on them full fast, They drew theyr swordes than anone, And theyr bowes from them cast.

86.

They went lyghtlye on theyr way, Wyth swordes and buclers round; By that it was the myddes of the day, They had made many a wound.

87.

There was many an out-horne in Carleil blowen, And the belles backward dyd they ryng, Many a woman sayde 'Alas!'

And many theyr handes dyd wryng.

88.

The mayre of Carlile forth com was, And wyth hym a full great route: These three yemen dred hym full sore, For theyr lyves stode in doute.

89.

The mayre came armed, a full great pace, With a polaxe in hys hande; Many a strong man wyth him was, There in that stoure to stande.

90.

The mayre smote at Cloudesle with his bil, Hys bucler he brast in two, Full many a yoman with great yll, 'Alas! Treason,' they cryed for wo.

'Kepe we the gates fast,' they bad, 'That these traytours therout not go.'

91.

But al for nought was that they wrought, For so fast they downe were layde, Tyll they all thre, that so manfully fought, Were gotten without at a braide.

92.

'Have here your keys,' sayd Adam Bel, 'Myne office I here forsake, Yf you do by my councell A newe porter ye make.'

93.