CIV
‘Herof to speake,’ said Adam Bell,
‘I-wis it is no bote:
The meate, that we must supp withall,
It runneth yet fast on fote.’
CV
Then went they downe into a launde[687].
These noble archars all thre;
Eche of them slew a hart of greece[688].
The best they cold there se.
CVI
‘Have here the best, Alyce, my wyfe,’
Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudesley;
‘By cause ye so bouldly stode me by
When I was slayne full nye.’
CVII
Then wente they to theyr suppere
Wyth such meate as they had;
And thankèd God of theyr fortune:
They were both mery and glad.
CVIII
And when that they had suppèd well,
Certayne withouten lease[689],
Cloudesley sayd, ‘We wyll to our Kynge,
To get us a charter of peace.