XL
‘Then shall not helpe Clym of the Clough,
Nor yet shall Adam Bell,
Though they came with a thousand mo,
Nor all the devels in hell.’
XLI
Early in the mornynge the Justice uprose,
To the gates first can he gone,
And commaunded to be shut full close
Lightilè everych-one.
XLII
Then went he to the markett place,
As fast as he coulde hye;
There a payre of new gallowes he set up
Besyde the pyllorye.
XLIII
A lytle boy among them asked,
What meanèd that gallow-tre?
They sayde to hange a good yemàn,
Called Wyllyam of Cloudeslèy.
XLIV
That lytle boye was the towne swyne-heard,
And kept fayre Alyce’s swyne;
Oft he had seene Wyllyam in the wodde,
And geven hym there to dyne.