Then, good my lord, I you beseche,
These yemen graunt ye me.
Madame, ye myght have asked a boone,
That shuld have been worth them all thre.120
Ye myght have asked towres, and townes,
Parkes and forestes plentè.
None soe pleasant to my pay,[756] shee sayd;
Nor none so lefe[757] 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 sayde, Lord, gramarcy:[758][759]130
I dare undertake for them,
That true men shal they be.
But good my lord, speke som mery word,
That comfort they may se.
I graunt you grace, then sayd our king;135
Washe, felos, and to meate go ye.
They had not setten but a whyle
Certayne without lesynge,[760]
There came messengers out of the north
With letters to our kyng.140
And whan the came before the kynge,
They knelt downe on theyr kne;
And sayd, Lord, your officers grete you well,
Of Carleile in the north cuntrè.
How fareth 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 that thou tell me?150
"Adam Bell, and Clime of the Clough,
And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè."
Alas for rewth![761] then sayd our kynge:
My hart is wonderous sore;
I had lever[762] than a thousande pounde,155
I had knowne of thys before;