And Cloudeslè lay redy there in a cart,
Fast bound both fote and hand;
And a stronge rop about hys necke,75
All readye for to hange.
The justice called to him a ladde,
Cloudeslees clothes hee shold have,
To take the measure of that yemàn,
Therafter to make hys grave.80
I have sene as great mervaile, said Cloudesle,
As betweyne thys and pryme,
He that maketh a grave for mee,
Hymselfe may lye therin.
Thou speakest proudlye, said the justice,85
I will thee hange with my hande.
Full wel herd this his brethren two,
There styll as they dyd stande.
Then Cloudeslè cast his eyen asyde,
And saw hys 'brethren twaine'90
At a corner of the market place,
Redy the justice for to slaine.
I se comfort, sayd Cloudeslè,
Yet hope I well to fare,
If I might have my handes at wyll95
Ryght lytle wolde I care.
Then spake good Adam Bell
To Clym of the Clough so free,
Brother, se you marke the justyce wel;
Lo! yonder you may him se:100
And at the shyrife shote I wyll
Strongly wyth an arrowe kene;
A better shote in mery Carleile
Thys seven yere was not sene.
They loosed their arrowes both at once,[727]105
Of no man had they dread;
The one hyt the justice, the other the sheryfe,
That both theyr sides gan blede.[728]
All men voyded,[729] that them stode nye,
When the justice fell to the grounde,110
And the sherife nye hym by;
Eyther had his deathes wounde.