Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudeslie

ADAM BELL,

CLYM OF THE CLOUGH,

AND

WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLIE.

---

They fought together as brethren true,
⁠Like hardy men and bolde;
Many a man to the ground they threw.
⁠And many a heart made cold.

---

GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.

111.

ADAM BELL,

CLYM OF THE CLOUGH,

AND

WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLIE.

---

Merry it was in the green forest,
⁠Among the leaves so green,
Wheras men hunt both east and west,
⁠With bows and arrows keen.

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

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 venyson,
⁠These yeomen, everychone;
They swore them brethren on a day
⁠To Englewood to gone.

Now lith and listen, gentlemen
⁠That of mirth love to here;
Two of them were single men,
⁠The third had a wedded fere.

William was the wedded man,
⁠Much more theu was his care;
He said to his brethren upon a day,
⁠To Carlile he would fare.

To speak to fair Alice, his wife,
⁠And with his children three;
By my trouth, then, said Adam Bell,
⁠Not by councel of me.

For if ye go to Carlile, brother,
⁠And from this wild wood wende
If that the Justice may you take,
⁠Your life were at an eude.

If that I come not to-morrow, brother,
⁠By prime to you again,
Trust ye then that I am taken,
⁠Or else that I am slain.

He took his leave of his brethren two,
⁠And to Carlile he’s gone;
There he knocked at his own window,
⁠Shortly and anone.

Where be you, fair Alice, he said,
⁠My wife and children three?
Lightly let in thine own husband,
⁠William of Cloudeslie.

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

Now I am 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 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
⁠For more than seven yere.

Up she rose, and forth she goes,
⁠Evil mote she speed, therefore;
For she had set no foot on ground
⁠For seven yere before.

She went unto the Justice hall,
⁠As fast as she could hie;
This night, she said, is come to town
⁠William of Cloudeslie.

Thereof the Justice was full fain.
⁠And so was the Sherife also,
Thou shalt not travail, dame, for nought,
⁠Thy meed’s here ere thou go.

They gave to her a right good gowne.
⁠Of scarlate and of graine;
She took the gift, and home she went,
⁠And laid her down agaiyne.

They rais’d the town of merry Carlile,
⁠In all the haste they can;
And came thronging to William’s house
⁠As fast as they might gone.

There they beset that good yeoman,
⁠Around on every side;
William heard great noise of folks
⁠That thitherward fast hyed.

Alice opened a back window,
⁠And looked all about;
She was aware of the Justice and Sherife both
⁠And with them a great route.

Alas! treason! cried Alice,
⁠Ever wo may thou be;
Go into my chamber, husband, she said,
⁠Sweet William of Cloudeslie.

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, like a lover true,
⁠Took a pole-axe in her hand,
Said, he shall die that cometh in
⁠This door, while I may stand.

Cloudeslie bent a right good bow,
⁠That was of trusty tree,
He smote the Justice on the breast,
⁠That his arrow burst in three.

A curse on his heart, said William,
⁠This day thy coat did on!
If it had not been better than mine,
⁠It had gone near thy bone.

Yield thee, Cloudeslie, said the Justice,
⁠Cast thy bow and thy arrows thee fro
A curse on his heart, said fair Alice,
⁠That my husband councelleth so.

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

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

William opened a back window,
⁠That was in his chamber hie,
And there with sheets he did let down
⁠His wife and children three.

Here you have my treasure, he said,
⁠My wife and children three:
For Christ’s sake do them no harm,
⁠But wreck you all on me.

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

The sparkles brent and fell upon
⁠Good William of Cloudeslie;
Then was he a wofull man, and said,
⁠This is a coward’s death to die.

Leever had I, said William then,
⁠With my sword in the route to renne,
Then here among my enemies wode,
⁠Thus eruelly to brene.

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

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

Then they him bound, both hand and foot,
⁠And in deep dungeon cast;
Now Cloudeslie, said the Justice,
⁠Thou shalt be hanged in haste.

A pair of new Gallows, said the Sherife
⁠Now shall I for thee make;
And the gates of Carlile shall be shut:
⁠No man shall come in therat.

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

Early in the morning the Justice uprose,
⁠To the gates first can he gone,
And commanded to be shut full close,
⁠Lightill evrychone.

Then went he to the market place,
⁠As fast as he could hye;
There a pair of new Gallows, he set up,
⁠Beside the pillorye.

A little boy among them asked,
⁠What meant that Gallows tree?
They said to hang a good yeoman,
⁠Called William of Cloudeslie.

That little boy was the town swine-herd,
⁠And kept fair Alice swine;
Oft had he seen William in the wood,
⁠And given him there to dine.

He went out at a crevis of the wall,
⁠And to the wood did gone,
There met he with these wightie yeomen,
⁠Shortly and anone

Alas! then said the little boy
⁠Ye tarry here too long,
Cloudeslie is taken dampned to death,
⁠And ready for to honge.

Alas! then said good Adam Bell,
⁠That ever we saw this day;
He had better have tarried with us,
⁠As oft we did him pray.

He might have dwelt in the green forest,
⁠Under the shadows green;
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 he slayne:
Take that child, he said to thy dinner,
⁠And bring mine arrow againe.

Now go we hence, said these wyghtye yeomen,
⁠Tarry we no longer here;
We shall him borrowe by God his grace,
⁠Though we buy it full dere.

To Carlile went these bold yeomen,
⁠All in a morning of May,
Here is one fit of Cloudeslie
⁠And another is to say.

---

Part the Second.

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

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

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

Adam said, I have a letter written,
⁠Now let us wisely werke,
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 therat,
⁠And to the gates he throng.

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 quoth Adam Bell,
⁠To the Justice we must it bring;
Let us in our message to do,
⁠That we may away to the King.

Here cometh none in, the porter said,
⁠By him that died on a tree,
Till a false thief he first hanged,
⁠Called William of Cloudeslie.

Then spake the yeoman Clym of the Clough,
⁠And swore by Mary free,
And if that we stande long without,
⁠Like a thefe thou hang’d shalt be.

Lo! here we have the King’s seal:
⁠What Lurdou, art thou wode?
The porter went it had been so,
⁠And lightly did his bode.

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

Now we are in, said Adam Bell,
⁠Whereof we are full fain;
But Christ he knows, that harrow’d hell.
⁠How we get 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 councell,
⁠And wrang his neck in two,
And cast him in a deep dungeon,
⁠And took his keys him fro.

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

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

Then they bent their good ewe bows,
⁠And looked their strings were round
The market place in merry Carlile,
⁠They beset in that stound.

And as they looked them beside,
⁠A pair of new Gallows they see,
And the Justice with a guest of squires,
⁠That judged William hang’d 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 hang.

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

I have seen as great mervaile, said Cloudeslie,
⁠As between this and prime,
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 Cloudeslie cast his eyes aside
⁠And saw his brethren twayne,
At a corner of the market place,
⁠Ready the Justice to slaine.

I see comfort, said Cloudeslie,
⁠Yet hope I well to fare,
If I might have my hands at will,
⁠Right lytle wold I care.

Then spake up then 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 Sherife shote I will,
⁠Strongly with an arrow kein;
A better shot in merry Carlile
⁠This seven yere was not seen.

They loosed thcre arrows both at once,
⁠Of no man had they dread;
The one hit the Justice, the other the Sherife,
⁠That both their sides gan blced.

All men voyded that them stood nye,
⁠When the Justice fell to the ground;
And the Sherife also nigh him by,
⁠Either had his deaths wound.

All the citizens fast gan fly,
⁠They durst no longer abide:
There lyghtly they loosed CLoudeslic,
⁠Where he with ropes lay tied.

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

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

They shot so well into that tide,
⁠Their strings were of silk full sure,
That they swept the streets on every side;
⁠That batalyle 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 preced to them full fast,
They drew their swordes theu anone,
⁠And their bows from them cast.

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

There was an out-horn in Carlile blown,
⁠And the bells backward did ring,
Many a woman said alas!
⁠And many their hands did wring.

The Mayre of Carlile forth has gone,
⁠With him a full great rout,
These yeoman dreaded him full sore,
⁠Their lives were in great doubt.

The Mayre came armed then apace,
⁠With pole-axe in his hand;
Many a strong man with him was,
⁠There in that stoure to stand.

The Mayre smote Cloudeslie with his bill,
⁠His buckler he brust in two,
Ful many a yeoman with great evil
⁠Cried, alas! treason! for wo,
Keep well the gates fast, they bade,
⁠That these traitors out not go.

But all for nought was that they wrought,
⁠So fast they down were laid;
They all three so manfully fought.
⁠They gotten without abraid.

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

He then threw their keys at their heads,
⁠And bade them well to thryve,
And all that letteth any good yeoman,
⁠To eome and eomfort his wyfe.

Thus be these good yeomen gone to the wood,
⁠As lyghtly as leaf on lynd;
They leugh and be merry, in their mood,
⁠Their enemies were ferr behind.

When they came to the Engle-wood,
⁠Under the trusty tree,
There they found them 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 Carlile,
⁠Before that fair meynye.

They set them down, and made good cheer,
⁠And eat and drank full well,
Here ends a fyt of these yeomen;
⁠Another I will you tell.

---

Part the Third.

As they sat in the Engle-wood,
⁠Under the green-wood tree.
They thought they heard a woman weep,
⁠But her they might not see.

Sore then sighed the fair Alice,
⁠That ever I saw this day,
For now is my dear husband slain,
⁠Alas! and wel-a-way!

Might I have spoken with his brethren,
⁠Or either of them twayne.
To shew them what to him befel,
⁠My heart were out of payne.

Cloudeslie walked a little beside,
⁠Lookt under the green wood lynde,
He saw his wife and children three,
⁠Full wo in heart and mind.

Welcome, dear wife, then said William,
⁠Under this trusty tree;
I had ween’d yesterday, by swete Saint John,
⁠Thou shouldest me never see.

Now well is me that ye be here,
⁠My heart is out of wo;
Dame, he said, be merry and glad,
⁠And thank my brethren two.

Hereof to speak, said Adam Bell,
⁠I wis it is no boot;
The meat that we must sup withall,
⁠It runneth yet on foot.

Then went they down into a launde,
⁠These noble archers three,
Each of them slew a hart of Greece,
⁠The best that they could see.

Have here the best, Alice, my wife,
⁠Said William of Cloudeslie,
Because ye boldly stood by me
⁠When I was slain full nie.

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

And when they all had supped well,
⁠Certain withouten lease,
Cloudeslie said, we will to our King,
⁠To get us a charter of peace.

Alice shall be at our sojournying,
⁠In a nunnery here beside;
My two sons also shall with her go,
⁠And there they shall abyde.

Mine eldest son shall go with me,
⁠For him have you no care;
And he shall bring you word again
⁠How that we all do fare.

Thus be these yeomen to London gone,
⁠As fast as they might hie;
Till they came to the King’s palace,
⁠Where they would needes be.

And when they came to the King’s court.
⁠Unto the palace gate,
Of no man would they ask the leave,
⁠But boldly went in thereat.

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

The usher said, 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 forest,
⁠Certain withouten lease;
And hither come we to the King,
⁠To get a charter of peace.

And when they came before the King,
⁠As was the law o’ the land,
They kneeled down without lettyng.
⁠And each held up his hand.

They said, lord, we beseech thee here
⁠That ye will grant us grace;
For we have slain your fallow deer
⁠In many a sundry place.

What be your names? then said the King,
⁠Anone that tell you me;
They said, Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough,
⁠And William of Cloudeslie.

Be ye those theves, then said the king,
⁠That bene told of to me
Here to God I make an avowe,
⁠Ye shall be hanged all three.

Ye shall be dead without merey
⁠As I’m King of this land;
He eommanded his officers everychone
⁠Fast on them to lay hand.

There they took these good yeomen,
⁠And arested them all three;
So may I thrive, said Adam Bell,
⁠This game liketh not me.

But, good lord, we beseeeh you now
⁠That ye would grant us grace;
That as freely we did to you come,
⁠As freely we may pass!

With such weapons as we have here,
⁠Till we get from your place;
And if we live this hundredth yere,
⁠We will ask you no graee.

Ye speak too proudly, said the King,
⁠Ye shall be hanged all three;
That were great pity, said the Queen,
⁠If any grace might be.

When I eame first into this land,
⁠To be your wedded wife,
The first boon that I wolde you ask,
⁠Ye would it grant belyfe.

And I asked you never one till now,
⁠Therefore, lord, grant it me;
Now ask it, Madam, said the King,
⁠And granted it shall be.

Then, good my lord, I you beseeeh
⁠These yeomen grant ye me;
Madam, ye might have asked a boon
⁠That was worth all the three.

Ye might have asked towns and towers,
⁠Parkes and forests plente;
None so pleasant, by my fay, she said,
⁠Nor none so lefe to me.

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

The Queen was then a glad woman.
⁠And said, lord, gramercy;
I dare undertake for them all
⁠That true men they shall be.

But good my lord, speak some merry word,
⁠That comfort they may see;
I grant you grace, then said the King,
⁠Rise, fellows, and to meat go ye.

They had not sitten but a while,
⁠Certain without leasing,
There came messengers from the north,
⁠With letters to our King.

And when they came before the King,
⁠They knelt down on their knee,
And said, lord, your officers greet you well
⁠Of Carlile, in the north countrie.

How fareth my Justice, said the King,
⁠And my Sherife also?
Sir, they be slain without leasing,
⁠And many an officer mo.

Who hath them slain? then said the King,
⁠Anon that do tell me;
Adam Bell, and Clym of the Clough,
⁠And William of Cloudeslie.

Alas for rewth! then said the King,
⁠My heart is wondrous sore;
I had lever than a thousand pound
⁠I had known this before:

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

The King he opened the letter anone,
⁠Himself he read it thro,
And found how these outlaws had slain
⁠Three hundred men and more.

First the Justice, then the Sherife,
⁠And the Mayre of Carlile town;
Of all the constables and catchipoles
⁠Alive were scant left one.

The haylies and the bedels both,
⁠And serjeants of the law,
And forty fosters of the fell,
⁠These outlaws had yslaw:

And broke his parkes, and slew his deer,
⁠Of all they chose the best,
So perelous 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 tables, anone he bade.
⁠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 wo.

The King’s bowmen busk them belyve,
⁠And the Queen’s archers also,
So did these three wyghtye yeomen,
⁠With them they thought to go.

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

Then spoke William of Cloudeslie,
⁠By him that for me died,
I hold him never a good archer
⁠That shooteth at butts so wide.

At what a butt, now, wold ye shoot?
⁠I pray thee tell to me;
At such a butt, Sir, then he said,
⁠As men use in my countrie.

William then went into a field
⁠With his two brethren;
There they set up two hazel rods,
⁠Twenty score paces between.

I hold him an archer, said Cloudeslie,
⁠That yonder wand cleaveth in two;
Here is none such, said the King,
⁠Nor no man can so do.

I shall essay, Sir, said Cloudeslie,
⁠Or that I farther go;
And then with a bearing arrow
⁠He 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 mastery.

I have a son is seven yere old,
⁠He is to me full dear;
I will him tye unto 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, do this, said the King,
⁠By him that died on tree;
But if thou do not as thou hast said,
⁠High hanged shall thou be.

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

What I have promised, said William,
⁠That I will ne’er forsake,
And there even before the King,
⁠In the earth he drove a stake:

And bound thereto his eldest son,
⁠And bade him stand still therat;
And turned the childe’s face him fro,
⁠Because he should not start.

An apple upon his head he set.
⁠And then his bow he bent:
Six score paces they were meten,
⁠And thither Cloudeslie went.

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

He prayed the people, that were there,
⁠That they all still wolde stand,
For he that shooteth for such a wager,
⁠Behoveth a steadfast hand.

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

But Cloudeslie cleft the apple in two,
⁠His son he did not die,
Now God forbid then said the King,
⁠That thou should shoot at me.

I give thee eighteen pence a day,
⁠And my bow shall thou bere,
And over all the north countrie,
⁠I make thee chief ridere.

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

William I make thee a gentleman,
⁠Of elothing and of fee;
And thy two brethren, yeomen of my Chamber
⁠For they are seemly to see.

Your son, for he is of tender age,
⁠Of my wine eellar shall be,
And when he cometh to man’s estate,
⁠He better advanced shall be.

And William, bring me your wife, said the Queen,
⁠Me longeth her sore to see:
She shall be my chief gentlewoman,
⁠To govern my nurserie.

The yeoman thanked them all curteously,
⁠To some Bishop we will wend,
Of all the sins that we have done,
⁠To be assoyld at his hand.

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

Thus ended the lives of these good yeomen;
⁠God send them eternal blysse;
And all that with a hand-bow shooteth,
⁠That of heaven they never misse.

Finis