"Then, my good lord, I you beseche,
These yemen graunt ye me:"
"Madame, ye myght have asked a bowne
That shuld have ben worth them all thre.120
"Ye myght have asked towres and town[es],
Parkes and forestes plenty."
"None so pleasaunt to mi pay," she said,
"Nor none so lefe to me."
"Madame, sith it is your desyre,125
Your askyng graunted shal be;
But I had lever have geven you
Good market townes thre."
The quene was a glad woman,
And sayd, "Lord, gramarcy;130
I dare undertake for them,
That true men shal they be.
"But, good lord, speke som mery word,
That comfort they may se."
"I graunt you grace," then said our king,135
"Wasshe, felos, and to meate go ye."
They had not setten but a whyle,
Certayne without lesynge,
There came messengers out of the north,
With letters to our kynge.140
And whan the[y] came before the kynge,
They kneled downe vpon theyr kne,
And sayd, "Lord, your offycers grete you wel,
Of Caerlel in the north cuntrè."
"How fare my justice," sayd the kyng,145
"And my sherife also?"
"Syr, they be slayne, without leasynge,
And many an officer mo."
"Who hath them slayne?" sayd the kyng,
"Anone thou tell me:"150
"Adam Bel, and Clime of the Clough,
And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè."
"Alas for rewth!" then sayd our kynge,
"My hart is wonderous sore;
I had leuer [th]an a thousand pounde,155
I had knowne of thys before.