Adam Bell, Clym Of The Clough And William Of Cloudesly Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B C C D CECE EEFE DGDG EECE EFEF EFCF GFDA FCH FEH IEIE GAC JFI DFG CGCG KFIF DFCF DIE ECC EECE DELE ECMC ICNC JCC FFFC FCE IFCF OEE J J GCC JIJ CPEC OCO DIDF EDCO OEC CEJE QEOE CCJ GHCC GDO JEJE JICI RCE CECE DEEE IST DCCC CEC GEC ECJ ECDC DCDC DED GRJ DRD CSCS C G DRC CCC GCCO D JC O OO DED GCG DCEJ DCDC CJC JCDC COOO CCJC CGEG DOO O CC CCOCO DCD DODO DED OCGC CCCC DCDC ESEJ CCE CCCC CCCC ECEC CCCC EJ J OCCC OCOC DCDJC CCCC DJD OGEG CCCC CCCC DCD CDED CCUO CCEC EED CCCC OCE C C DCD CCOO CC CCEC DOJO JCJC OCE ECOO CCGC DCDC GOC COJ JCJC COC J G JOCC O EC ECDO EOEO COC S EO CGJG E S V EC O C COC EOOO C J DSWJ SED J S J E SCCC OOC EJEJ EEOE XDED CCCC CCC OJC EJEJ CCCC DCC J C COJE D J D CC J OC CCJC CCC JCCO EJE O SJ ECOC CCCC CSCS CCCC DOCC CJSO CCC ECC ECCO SOC EOE DCE ECSC EOXO

The Text The earliest complete text here given was printed by William Copland between and there are extant two printed fragments one printed by John Byddell in and the other in a type older than Copland's Later there are two editions printed by James Roberts in and finally a MS text in the Percy Folio cA
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Copland's text is obviously full of faults and in emendations I have mostly followed ChildB
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The Story lively and admirably told contains little extrinsic interest except in William's feat of shooting the apple from his son's head This is inevitably associated with the legend of William Tell which is told in the White Book of Obwalden written about but similar stories can be found in the Icelandic Saga of Dietrich of Bern about and in Saxo Grammaticus who wrote his Danish History about the year Three or four other versions of the story are to be found in German and Scandinavian literature before the date of our ballad but they all agree in two points which are missing in the English ballad the shot is compulsory and the archer reserves another arrow for purposes of revenge in case he misses his mark William of Cloudesly volunteers a difficult and risky feat out of bravadoC
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The rescue of Cloudesly by Adam Bell and Clym of the Clough may be compared with the rescue of Robin Hood by Little John and Much in Robin Hood and the Monk sttC
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ADAM BELL CLYM OF THE CLOUGH AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLYD
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Mery it was in grene forestC
Among the lev s greneE
Wher that men walke both east and westC
Wyth bowes and arrowes keneE
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To ryse the dere out of theyr denneE
Suche sightes as hath ofte bene seneE
As by thre yemen of the north countreyF
By them it is as I meaneE
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The one of them hight Adam BelD
The other Clym of the CloughG
The thyrd was William of CloudeslyD
An archer good ynoughG
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They were outlawed for venysonE
These thre yemen everychoneE
They swore them brethren upon a dayC
To Englyshe wood for to goneE
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Now lith and lysten gentylmenE
And that of myrthes loveth to hereF
Two of them were single menE
The third had a wedded fereF
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Wyllyam was the wedded manE
Muche more then was hys careF
He sayde to hys brethren upon a dayC
To Carlile he would fareF
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For to speke with fayre Alyce his wifeG
And with hys chyldren threF
'By my trouth ' sayde Adam BelD
'Not by the counsell of meA
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'For if ye go to Carlile brotherF
And from thys wylde wode wendeC
If that the justice may you takeH
Your lyfe were at an ende '-
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'If that I come not to morrowe brotherF
By pryme to you agayneE
Truste not els but that I am takeH
Or else that I am slayne '-
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He toke hys leave of hys brethren twoI
And to Carlel he is goneE
There he knocked at his owne windoweI
Shortlye and anoneE
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'Wher be you fayre Alyce my wyfeG
And my chyldren threeA
Lyghtly let in thyne husbandeC
Wyllyam of Cloudeslee '-
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'Alas ' then sayde fayre AlyceJ
And syghed wonderous soreF
'Thys place hath ben besette for youI
Thys halfe yere and more '-
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'Now am I here ' sayde CloudesleeD
'I would that in I wereF
Now feche us meate and drynke ynoughG
And let us make good chere '-
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She feched hym meate and drynke plentyC
Lyke a true wedded wyfeG
And pleased hym with that she hadC
Whome she loved as her lyfeG
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There lay an old wyfe in that placeK
A lytle besyde the fyreF
Whych Wyllyam had found of cherytyeI
More then seven yereF
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Up she rose and walked full stillD
Evel mote shee spede therforeF
For she had not set no fote on groundC
In seven yere beforeF
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She went unto the justice hallD
As fast as she could hyeI
'Thys night is come unto this townE
Wyllyam of Cloudesle '-
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Thereof the justice was full fayneE
And so was the shirife alsoC
'Thou shalt not travaile hither dame for noughtC
Thy meed thou shalt have er thou go '-
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They gave to her a ryght good gouneE
Of scarlat it was as I heard sayneE
She toke the gyft and home she wenteC
And couched her doune agayneE
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They rysed the towne of mery CarlelD
In all the hast that they canE
And came thronging to Wyllyames houseL
As fast as they might goneE
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There they besette that good yemanE
Round about on every sydeC
Wyllyam hearde great noyse of folkesM
That heyther ward they hyedC
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Alyce opened a shot windoweI
And lok d all abouteC
She was ware of the justice and the shirife botheN
Wyth a full great routeC
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'Alas treason ' cryed AlyceJ
'Ever wo may thou beC
Goe into my chamber my husband ' she saydC
'Swete Wyllyam of Cloudesle '-
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He toke his sweard and hys buclerF
Hys bow and hys chyldren threF
And wente into hys strongest chamberF
Where he thought surest to beC
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Fayre Alyce followed him as a lover trueF
With a pollaxe in her handeC
'He shall be deade that here cometh inE
Thys dore while I may stand '-
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Cloudeslee bente a wel good boweI
That was of trusty treF
He smot the justise on the brestC
That hys arowe brest in threF
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'God's curse on his hart ' saide WilliamO
'Thys day thy cote dyd onE
If it had ben no better then myneE
It had gone nere thy bone '-
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'Yelde thee Cloudesle ' sayd the justiseJ
'And thy bowe and thy arrowes the fro '-
'God's curse on hys hart ' sayd fair AlyceJ
'That my husband councelleth so '-
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'Set fyre on the house ' saide the sherifeG
'Syth it wyll no better beC
And brenne we therin William ' he saideC
'Hys wyfe and chyldren thre '-
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They fyred the house in many a placeJ
The fyre flew up on hyeI
'Alas ' than cryed fayr AliceJ
'I se we shall here dye '-
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William openyd hys backe wyndowC
That was in hys chamber on hieP
And with sheetes let hys wyfe downeE
And hys children threeC
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'Have here my treasure ' sayde WilliamO
'My wyfe and my chyldren threC
For Christ s love do them no harmeO
But wreke you all on me '-
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Wyllyam shot so wonderous wellD
Tyll hys arrowes were all goI
And the fyre so fast upon hym fellD
That hys bowstryng brent in twoF
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The spercles brent and fell hym onE
Good Wyllyam of CloudesleD
But than was he a wofull man and saydeC
'Thys is a cowardes death to meO
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'Lever I had ' sayde WyllyamO
'With my sworde in the route to renneE
Then here among myne enemyes wodeC
Thus cruelly to bren '-
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He toke hys sweard and hys bucklerC
And among them all he ranE
Where the people were most in preceJ
He smote downe many a manE
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There myght no man stand hys strokeQ
So fersly on them he ranE
Then they threw wyndowes and dores on himO
And so toke that good yemanE
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There they hym bounde both hand and foteC
And in a deepe dongeon him castC
'Now Cloudesle ' sayd the hye justiceJ
'Thou shalt be hanged in hast '-
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'One vow shal I make ' sayde the sherifeG
'A payre of new gallowes shal I for thee makeH
And all the gates of Carlile shal be shutteC
There shall no man come in theratC
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'Then shall not helpe Clym of the ClougheG
Nor yet Adam BellD
Though they came with a thousand moO
Nor all the devels in hell '-
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Early in the mornyng the justice uproseJ
To the gates fast gan he gonE
And commaunded to be shut full closeJ
Lightile everychoneE
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Then went he to the markett placeJ
As fast as he coulde hyeI
A payre of new gallowes there dyd he up setC
Besyde the pylloryeI
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A lytle boy stood them amongR
And asked what meaned that gallow treC
They sayde 'To hange a good yemanE
Called Wyllyam of Cloudesle '-
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That lytle boye was the towne swyne heardC
And kept fayre Alyce swyneE
Full oft he had seene Cloudesle in the woddeC
And geven hym there to dyneE
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He went out of a crevis in the wallD
And lightly to the woode dyd goneE
There met he with these wight yonge menE
Shortly and anoneE
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'Alas ' then sayde that lytle boyeI
'Ye tary here all too longeS
Cloudeslee is taken and dampned to deathT
All readye for to honge '-
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'Alas ' then sayd good Adam BellD
'That ever we see thys dayeC
He might here with us have dwelledC
So ofte as we dyd him prayeC
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'He myght have taryed in grene foresteC
Under the shadowes sheeneE
And have kepte both hym and us in resteC
Out of trouble and teene '-
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Adam bent a ryght good bowG
A great hart sone had he slayneE
'Take that chylde ' he sayde 'to thy dynnerC
And bryng me myne arrowe agayne '-
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'Now go we hence ' sayed these wight yong menE
'Tarry we no longer hereC
We shall hym borowe by God's graceJ
Though we buy itt full dere '-
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To Caerlel wente these good yemenE
In a mery mornyng of MayeC
Here is a fyt of CloudeslyD
And another is for to sayeC
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And when they came to mery CaerlellD
In a fayre mornyng tydeC
They founde the gates shut them untyllD
Round about on every sydeC
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'Alas ' than sayd good Adam BellD
'That ever we were made menE
These gates be shut so wonderly wellD
That we may not come herein '-
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Than spake Clym of the CloughG
'Wyth a wyle we wyl us in bryngR
Let us saye we be messengersJ
Streyght comen from our king '-
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Adam said 'I have a letter written weleD
Now let us wysely werkeR
We wyl saye we have the kyng s sealeD
I holde the porter no clerke '-
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Than Adam Bell bete on the gateC
With strok s great and strongeS
The porter herde suche a noyse theratC
And to the gate faste he throngeS
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'Who is there now ' sayde the porterC
'That maketh all this knockinge '-
'We be two messengers ' sayd Clim of the CloughG
'Be comen streyght from our kyng '-
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'We have a letter ' sayd Adam BellD
'To the justice we must it bryngR
Let us in our message to doC
That we were agayne to our kyng '-
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'Here commeth no man in ' sayd the porterC
'By hym that dyed on a treC
Tyll a false thefe be hangedC
Called Wyllyam of Cloudesle '-
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Than spake that good yeman Clym of the CloughG
And swore by Mary freC
'If that we stande long wythoutC
Lyke a thefe hanged shalt thou beO
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'Lo here we have got the kyng s sealeD
What lordane art thou wode '-
The porter had wende it had ben soJ
And lyghtly dyd off hys hodeC
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'Welcome be my lordes seale ' saide heO
'For that ye shall come in '-
He opened the gate right shortlyO
An evyl openyng for himO
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'Now we are in ' sayde Adam BellD
'Therof we are full faineE
But Christ knoweth that harowed hellD
How we shall com out agayne '-
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'Had we the keys ' said Clim of the CloughG
'Ryght wel than shoulde we spedeC
Than might we come out wel ynoughG
Whan we se tyme and nede '-
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They called the porter to a councellD
And wrong his necke in twoC
And caste hym in a depe dongeonE
And toke the keys hym froJ
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'Now am I porter ' sayd Adam BelD
'Se brother the keys have we hereC
The worst porter to mery CarlileD
That ye had thys hondreth yereC
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'Now wyll we our bow s bendC
Into the towne wyll we goJ
For to delyver our dere brotherC
Where he lyeth in care and wo '-
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Then they bent theyr good yew bowesJ
And loked theyr stringes were roundC
The markett place of mery CarlileD
They beset in that stoundC
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And as they loked them besydeC
A paire of new galowes there they seeO
And the justice with a quest of squyersO
That judged William hanged to beO
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And Cloudesle hymselfe lay ready in a cartC
Fast bound both fote and handC
And a stronge rope about hys neckeJ
All readye for to be hangdeC
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The justice called to him a laddeC
Cloudesles clothes shold he haveG
To take the measure of that good yomanE
And thereafter to make hys graveG
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'I have sene as great a mervaile ' said CloudesleD
'As betweyne thys and prymeO
He that maketh thys grave for meO
Hymselfe may lye therin '-
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'Thou speakest proudlye ' said the justiceO
'I shall hange thee with my hande '-
Full wel that herd his brethren twoC
There styl as they dyd standeC
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Then Cloudesle cast his eyen asydeC
And saw hys brethren standeC
At a corner of the market placeO
With theyr good bowes bent in theyr handC
Redy the justyce for to chaseO
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'I se good comfort ' sayd CloudesleD
'Yet hope I well to fareC
If I might have my handes at wyllD
Ryght lytel wold I care '-
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Than bespake good Adam BellD
To Clym of the Clough so freeO
'Brother se ye marke the justyce welD
Lo yonder ye may him seO
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'And at the shyrife shote I wyllD
Strongly wyth an arrowe keneE
A better shote in mery CarlileD
Thys seven yere was not sene '-
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They loosed their arrowes both at onceO
Of no man had they dredeC
The one hyt the justice the other the sheryfeG
That both theyr sides gan bledeC
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All men voyded that them stode nyeC
Whan the justice fell to the groundeC
And the sherife fell nye hym byC
Eyther had his death s woundeC
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All the citezens fast gan fleD
They durst no longer abydeC
There lyghtly they loosed CloudesleeD
Where he with ropes lay tydeC
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Wyllyam stert to an officer of the towneE
Hys axe out hys hand he wrongeS
On eche syde he smote them downeE
Hym thought he had taryed too longJ
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Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren twoC
'Thys daye let us lyve and dieC
If ever you have nede as I have nowE
The same shall you finde by me '-
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They shot so well in that tydeC
For theyr stringes were of silke ful sureC
That they kept the stretes on every sideC
That batayle did long endureC
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They fought together as brethren trueC
Lyke hardy men and boldeC
Many a man to the ground they threwC
And made many an hert coldeC
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But whan their arrowes were all gonE
Men presyd on them full fastC
They drew theyr sword s than anoneE
And theyr bow s from them castC
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They went lyghtlye on theyr wayC
Wyth swordes and buclers roundC
By that it was the myddes of the dayC
They had made many a woundC
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There was many an out horne in Carleil blowenE
And the belles backward dyd they ryngJ
Many a woman sayde 'Alas '-
And many theyr handes dyd wryngJ
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The mayre of Carlile forth com wasO
And wyth hym a full great routeC
These three yemen dred hym full soreC
For theyr lyv s stode in douteC
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The mayre came armed a full great paceO
With a polaxe in hys handeC
Many a strong man wyth him wasO
There in that stoure to standeC
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The mayre smote at Cloudesle with his bilD
Hys bucler he brast in twoC
Full many a yoman with great yllD
'Alas Treason ' they cryed for woJ
'Kepe we the gates fast ' they badC
'That these traytours therout not go '-
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But al for nought was that they wroughtC
For so fast they downe were laydeC
Tyll they all thre that so manfully foughtC
Were gotten without at a braideC
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'Have here your keys ' sayd Adam BelD
'Myne office I here forsakeJ
Yf you do by my councellD
A new porter ye make '-
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He threw the keys there at theyr headsO
And bad them evil to thryveG
And all that letteth any good yomanE
To come and comfort his wyfeG
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Thus be these good yomen gon to the wodeC
As lyghtly as lefe on lyndeC
They laugh and be mery in theyr modeC
Theyr enemyes were farr behyndeC
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Whan they came to InglyswodeC
Under their trysty treC
There they found bow s full goodC
And arrow s great plentC
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'So help me God ' sayd Adam BellD
And Clym of the Clough so freC
'I would we were nowe in mery CarlileD
Before that fayre meyn '-
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They set them downe and made good chereC
And eate and dranke full wellD
Here is a fytte of the wight yongemenE
And another I shall you tellD
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As they sat in InglyswoodC
Under theyr trysty treC
They thought they herd a woman wepeU
But her they myght not seO
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Sore syghed there fayre Alyce and saydC
'Alas that ever I see thys dayC
For nowe is my dere husband slayneE
Alas and wel a wayC
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'Myght I have spoken wyth hys dere brethrenE
With eyther of them twayneE
To show to them what him befellD
My hart were out of payne '-
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Cloudesle walked a lytle besideC
And looked under the grene wood lyndeC
He was ware of his wife and chyldren threeC
Full wo in herte and myndeC
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'Welcome wyfe ' than sayde WyllyamO
'Unto this trysty treC
I had wende yesterday by swete saynt JohnE
Thou sholde me never have se '-
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'Now well is me ' she sayd 'that ye be hereC
My harte is out of wo '-
'Dame ' he sayde 'be mery and gladC
And thanke my brethren two '-
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'Herof to speake ' said Adam BellD
'I wis it is no boteC
The meate that we must supp withallD
It runneth yet fast on fote '-
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Then went they downe into a laundeC
These noble archares all threC
Eche of them slew a hart of greceO
The best they cold there seO
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'Have here the best Alyce my wyfe '-
Sayde Wyllyam of CloudeslyeC
'By cause ye so boldly stode me byC
Whan I was slayne full nye '-
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Than went they to theyr suppereC
Wyth suche meate as they hadC
And thanked God of ther fortuneE
They were both mery and gladC
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And when they had supped wellD
Certayne withouten leaseO
Cloudesle sayd 'We wyll to our kyngJ
To get us a charter of peaceO
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'Alyce shal be at sojournyngJ
In a nunnery here besydeC
My two sonnes shall wyth her goJ
And there they shall abydeC
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'Myne eldest son shall go wyth meO
For hym have I no careC
And he shall bring you worde agaynE
How that we do fare '-
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Thus be these wight men to London goneE
As fast as they maye hyeC
Tyll they came to the kynges pallaceO
There they woulde ned s beO
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And whan they came to the kyng s courteC
Unto the pallace gateC
Of no man wold they aske leaveG
But boldly went in theratC
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They presyd prestly into the hallD
Of no man had they dreadeC
The porter came after and dyd them calleD
And with them began to chydeC
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The usher sayde 'Yemen what wold ye haveG
I pray you tell to meO
You myght thus make offycers shentC
Good syrs of whence be ye '-
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'Syr we be outlawes of the forestC
Certayne withouten leaseO
And hyther we be come to our kyngJ
To get us a charter of peace '-
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And whan they came before the kyngJ
As it was the lawe of the landeC
They kneled downe without lettyngJ
And eche held up his handC
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They sayed 'Lord we beseche you hereC
That ye wyll graunt us graceO
For we have slayne your fat falow dereC
In many a sondry place '-
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'What is your names ' than said our kingJ
'Anone that you tell me '-
They sayd 'Adam Bell Clim of the CloughG
And Wyllyam of Cloudesle '-
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'Be ye those theves ' than sayd our kyngJ
'That men have tolde of to meO
Here to God I make a voweC
Ye shal be hanged al threC
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'Ye shal be dead without mercyO
As I am kynge of this lande '-
He commanded his officers everichoneE
Fast on them to lay handeC
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There they toke these good yemenE
And arested them al threC
'So may I thryve ' sayd Adam BellD
'Thys game lyketh not meO
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'But good lorde we beseche you nowE
That ye wyll graunt us graceO
Insomuche as we be to you comenE
Or elles that we may fro you passeO
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'With such weapons as we have hereC
Tyll we be out of your placeO
And yf we lyve this hondred yereC
We wyll aske you no grace '-
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'Ye speake proudly ' sayd the kyngeS
'Ye shall be hanged all thre '-
'That were great pitye ' sayd the queneE
'If any grace myght beO
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'My lorde whan I came fyrst into this landeC
To be your wedded wyfeG
The fyrst boone that I would askeJ
Ye would graunt me belyfeG
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'And I asked you never none tyll nowE
Therefore good lorde graunt it me '-
'Now aske it madam ' sayd the kyngeS
'And graunted shal it be '-
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'Than good lord I you besecheV
These yemen graunt you me '-
'Madame ye myght have asked a booneE
That shuld have been worth them threC
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'Ye myght have asked towres and townesO
Parkes and forestes plentie '-
'None soe pleasant to my pay ' shee saydC
'Nor none so lefe to me '-
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'Madame sith it is your desyreC
Your askyng graunted shal beO
But I had lever have given youC
Good market town s thre '-
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The quene was a glad womanE
And sayde 'Lord gramarcyO
I dare undertake for themO
That true men shal they beO
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'But good lord speke som mery wordC
That comfort they may se '-
'I graunt you grace ' than sayd our kyngJ
'Washe felos and to meate go ye '-
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They had not setten but a whyleD
Certayne without lesyngeS
There came messengers out of the northW
With letters to our kyngJ
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And whan they came before the kyngeS
They kneled downe upon theyr kneE
And sayd 'Lord your officers grete you wellD
Of Carlile in the north cuntre '-
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'How fareth my justice ' sayd the kyngJ
'And my sherife also '-
'Syr they be slayne without lesyngeS
And many an officer mo '-
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'Who hath them slayne ' sayd the kyngJ
'Anone thou tell me '-
'Adam Bell and Clim of the CloughE
And Wyllyam of Cloudesle '-
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'Alas for rewth ' than said our kyngeS
'My hart is wonderous soreC
I had lever than a thousande poundeC
I had knowne of thys beforeC
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'For I have y graunted them graceO
And that forthynketh meO
But had I knowne all thys beforeC
They had been hanged all thre '-
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The kyng opened the letter anoneE
Himselfe he red it thoJ
And founde how these thre outlawes had slainE
Thre hundred men and moJ
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Fyrst the justice and the sheryfeE
And the mayre of Carlile towneE
Of all the constables and catchipollesO
Alyve were left not oneE
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The baylyes and the bedyls bothX
And the sergeauntes of the lawD
And forty fosters of the feE
These outlawes had y slawD
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And broke his parks and slayne his dereC
Over all they chose the bestC
So perelous out lawes as they wereC
Walked not by easte nor westC
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When the kynge this letter had redC
In hys harte he syghed soreC
'Take up the table ' anone he badC
'For I may eat no more '-
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The kyng called his best archarsO
To the buttes wyth hym to goJ
'I wyll se these felowes shote ' he saydC
'That in the north have wrought this wo '-
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The kynges bowmen buske them blyveE
And the quenes archers alsoJ
So dyd these thre wyght yemenE
With them they thought to goJ
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There twyse or thryse they shote aboutC
For to assay theyr handeC
There was no shote these thre yemen shotC
That any prycke myght them standC
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Then spake Wyllyam of CloudesleD
'By God that for me dyedC
I hold hym never no good archarC
That shoteth at buttes so wyde '-
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'Whereat ' than sayd our kingJ
'I pray thee tell me '-
'At suche a but syr ' he saydC
'As men use in my countree '-
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Wyllyam wente into a fyeldC
And his two brethren with himO
There they set up two hasell roddesJ
Twenty score paces betweneE
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'I hold him an archar ' said CloudesleD
'That yonder wande cleveth in two '-
'Here is none suche ' sayd the kyngJ
'Nor none that can so do '-
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'I shall assaye syr ' sayd CloudesleD
'Or that I farther go '-
Cloudesly with a bearyng aroweC
Clave the wand in twoC
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'Thou art the best archer ' then said the kingJ
'Forsothe that ever I se '-
'And yet for your love ' sayd WyllyamO
'I wyll do more maystryC
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'I have a sonne is seven yere oldeC
He is to me full deareC
I wyll hym tye to a stakeJ
All shall se that be hereC
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'And lay an apple upon hys headC
And go syxe score paces hym froC
And I my selfe with a brode arowC
Shall cleve the apple in two '-
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'Now haste thee then sayd the kyngJ
'By hym that dyed on a treC
But yf thou do not as thou hest saydeC
Hanged shalt thou beO
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'And thou touche his head or gowneE
In syght that men may seJ
By all the sayntes that be in heavenE
I shall hange you all thre '-
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'That I have promised ' said WilliamO
'I wyll it never forsake '-
And there even before the kyngeS
In the earth he drove a stakeJ
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And bound therto his eldest sonneE
And bad hym stand styll thereatC
And turned the childes face fro himO
Because he should not stertC
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An apple upon his head he setC
And then his bowe he bentC
Syxe score paces they were outmetC
And thether Cloudesle wentC
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There he drew out fayre brode arroweC
Hys bowe was great and longeS
He set that arrowe in his boweC
That was both styffe and strongeS
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He prayed the people that wer thereC
That they wold still standC
For he that shoteth for such a wagerC
Behoveth a stedfast handC
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Muche people prayed for CloudesleD
That his lyfe saved myght beO
And whan he made hym redy to shoteC
There was many a weeping eyeC
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Thus Cloudesle clefte the apple in twoC
That many a man it seJ
'Over Gods forbode ' sayde the kingeS
'That thou sholdest shote at meO
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'I geve thee eightene pence a dayC
And my bowe shalt thou bereC
And over all the north countreC
I make the chyfe rydere '-
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'And I give thee twelve pence a day ' said the queneE
'By God and by my fayC
Come feche thy payment whan thou wyltC
No man shall say thee nay '-
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'Wyllyam I make thee gentlemanE
Of clothyng and of feC
And thy two brethren yemen of my chambreC
For they are so semely to seeO
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'Your sonne for he is tendre of ageS
Of my wyne seller shall he beO
And whan he commeth to mann s stateC
Better avaunced shall he be '-
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'And Wyllyam bring me your wife ' said the queneE
'Me longeth sore her to seeO
She shall be my chefe gentlewomanE
And governe my nursery '-
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The yemen thanked them full curteouslyD
And sayd 'To Rome streyght wyll we wendC
Of all the synnes that we have doneE
To be assoyled of his hand '-
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So forth be gone these good yemenE
As fast as they might hyeC
And after came and dwelled with the kyngeS
And dyed good men all threC
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Thus endeth the lives of these good yemenE
God send them eternall blysseO
And all that with hand bowe shotethX
That of heven they may never mysseO

Frank Sidgwick



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About Adam Bell, Clym Of The Clough And William Of Cloudesly

Adam Bell, Clym Of The Clough And William Of Cloudesly is a poem by Frank Sidgwick. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.



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