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For to speke with fayre Alyce hys wyfe, and wyth hys
chyldren thre.
By my trouth, sayde Adam Bell, not by the counsell of me;
For if you go to Carleyl, brother, and from thys wyld wode
wende,
If the justyce may you take, your lyfe were at an ende.
If that I come not to-morrow, brother, by pryme to you
again,
Trust not else but that I am take, or else that I am
slain.
He toke hys leave of hys brethren two, and to Carleyl he ys
gon,
There he knocked at his owne windowe statlye and anon.
Wher be you fayre Alyce my wife, and my chyldren thre?
Lyghtly let yn thyne own husband, Wyllyam of Cloudesle.
Alas! then sayde fayre Alyce, and syghed woundrous sore,
Thys place has been besette for you, thys halfe yere, and
more.
Now I am here, sayd Cloudesle, I wold that I in were;
Now fetch us meate and drynke ynoughe, and let us make good
chere.
She fetched hym meat and drynke plentye, lyke a true wedded
wyfe;
And pleased hym wyth that she had, whom she loved as her
lyfe.
There lay an old wyfe in that place, a little sesyde the
fyre,
Whych Wyllyam had found of charytye, more than seven
year:
Up she rose and forth she goes, (evil mote she spede
therefore,)
For she had not set fote on ground yn seven yere before.
She went unto the Justyce Hall as fast as she could hye,
Thys nyght ys come ynto thys town Wyllyam of Cloudeslye.
Thereof the justyce was full fayne, and so was the sheryff
also;
Thou shalt not travayl hyther dame for nought, thy meed
shalt have or thou go.
They gave to her a ryght good goune of scarlet and of
grayne,
She toke the gyft and home she went, and couched her down
agyane.
They rysed the the towne of mery Carleyl in all the haste
they can,
And came thronging to Wyllyames house as fast as they might
gane.
Then they beset that good yeman about on every syde.
Wyllyam heard a great noyse of folks that thitherward they
hyed;
Alyce opened a back wyndow and loked all about;
She was ware of the justyce and sheryff both, wyth a full
great rout.
Alas! Treason, cryed Alyce, ever wo may thou be!
Go ynto my chamber, husband, she sayd, sweet Wyllyam of
Cloudesle.
He took his sweard and hys buckler, hys bow and hys chyldren
thre,
And went ynto hys strongest chamber, where he thought surest
to be.
Fayre Alyce, like a lover true, took a poalaxe in her
hand:
He shall be deade that here commeth in thys dore, whyle I
may stand,
Cloudelse bente a wel-good bowe, that was of trusty tre;
He smot the justyce on the breast, that hys arrowe brest yn
thre.
A curse on hys hart, said Wyllyam, thys day thy cote dyd
on!
If yt had been no better than myne, yt had gone near thy
bone.
Yeld the Cloudesle, sayd the justyce, thy bow and thy arrows
the fro.
A curse on his hart, sayd fayr Alyce, that my husband
counselleth so.
Set fyre on his house, sayd the sheryff, syth yt wyll no
better be,
And brenne we theryn William, hys wyfe and chyldren thre.
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