The Mayre came armèd a full great pace,
With a polaxe in hys hande;
Many a strong man wyth him was,
There in that stowre[681] to stande.
XC
The Mayre smot at Cloudesley with his byll,
Hys buckler he brast in two,
Full many a yeman with great yll,
‘Alas! Treason!’ they cryed for wo.
‘Kepe well the gatès fast we wyll,
That these traytours therout not go.’
XCI
But al for nought was that they wrought,
For so fast they downe were layde,
Tyll they all thre, that so manfully fought
Were gotten without, at a braide[682].
XCII
‘Have here your keys,’ sayd Adam Bell,
‘Myne office I here forsake;
And yf you do by my counsell
A new porter do ye make.’
XCIII
He threw theyr keys there at theyr hedes,
And bad them well to thryve,
And all that letteth[683] any good yeman
To come and comfort his wyfe.