The sayed, Lord, we beseche the here,
That ye wyll graunt us grace;
For we have slayne your fat falow dere
In many a sondry place.80
What be your nams, then said our king,
Anone that you tell me?
They sayd, Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough,
And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè.
Be ye those theves, then sayd our kyng,85
That men have tolde of to me?
Here to God I make an avowe,
Ye shal be hanged al thre.
Ye shal be dead without mercy,
As I am kynge of this lande.90
He commanded his officers everich-one,
Fast on them to lay hande.
There they toke these good yemen,
And arested them al thre:
So may I thryve, sayd Adam Bell,95
Thys game lyketh not me.
But, good lorde, we beseche you now,
That yee graunt us grace,
Insomuche as 'frely' we be to you come,
'As frely' we may fro you passe,100
With such weapons, as we have here,
Tyll we be out of your place;
And yf we lyve this hundreth yere,
We wyll aske you no grace.
Ye speake proudly, sayd the kynge;105
Ye shall be hanged all thre.
That were great pitye, then sayd the quene,
If any grace myght be.
My lorde, whan I came fyrst into this lande
To be your wedded wyfe,110
The fyrst boone that I wold aske,[754]
Ye would graunt it me belyfe:[755]
And I asked you never none tyll now;
Therefore good lorde, graunt it me,
Now aske it, madam, sayd the kynge,115
And graunted it shal be.