78. They loosed their arrowes both at once, Of no man had they drede; The one hyt the justice, the other the sheryfe, That both theyr sides gan blede. 79. All men voyded, that them stode nye, Whan the justice fell to the grounde, And the sherife fell nye hym by; Eyther had his deathës wounde. 80. All the citezens fast gan fle, They durst no longer abyde: There lyghtly they loosed Cloudeslee, Where he with ropes lay tyde. 81. Wyllyam stert to an officer of the towne, Hys axe out hys hand he wronge, On eche syde he smote them downe, Hym thought he had taryed too long. 82. Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren two, ‘Thys daye let us lyve and die, If ever you have nede, as I have now, The same shall you finde by me.’ 83. They shot so well in that tyde, For theyr stringes were of silke ful sure, That they kept the stretes on every side; That batayle did long endure. 84. They fought together as brethren true, Lyke hardy men and bolde, Many a man to the ground they threw, And made many an hertë colde. 85. But whan their arrowes were all gon, Men presyd on them full fast, They drew theyr swordës than anone, And theyr bowës from them cast. 86. They went lyghtlye on theyr way, Wyth swordes and buclers round; By that it was the myddes of the day, They had made many a wound. 87. There was many an out-horne in Carleil blowen, And the belles backward dyd they ryng, Many a woman sayde ‘Alas!’ And many theyr handes dyd wryng. 88. The mayre of Carlile forth com was, And wyth hym a full great route: These three yemen dred hym full sore, For theyr lyvës stode in doute. 89. The mayre came armed, a full great pace, With a polaxe in hys hande; Many a strong man wyth him was, There in that stoure to stande. 90. The mayre smote at Cloudesle with his bil, Hys bucler he brast in two, Full many a yoman with great yll, ‘Alas! Treason,’ they cryed for wo. ‘Kepe we the gates fast,’ they bad, ‘That these traytours therout not go.’ 91. 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. 92. ‘Have here your keys,’ sayd Adam Bel, ‘Myne office I here forsake, Yf you do by my councell A newë porter ye make.’ 93. He threw the keys there at theyr heads, And bad them evil to thryve, And all that letteth any good yoman To come and comfort his wyfe. 94. Thus be these good yomen gon to the wode, As lyghtly as lefe on lynde; They laugh and be mery in theyr mode, Theyr enemyes were farr behynde. 95. Whan they came to Inglyswode, Under their trysty-tre, There they found bowës full good, And arrowës great plentë.