"Have here the best, Alyce my wife," Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudeslè, "By cause ye so bouldly stod by me, 35 When I was slayne full nye." Then went they to supper,[L37] Wyth suche meat as they had, And thanked God of ther fortune; They were both mery and glad. 40 And when they had supped well, Certayne without any leace, Cloudeslè sayd, "We wyll to our kyng, To get us a charter of peace. "Alyce shall be at sojournyng,[L45] 45 In a nunry here besyde; My tow sonnes shall wyth her go, And ther they shall abyde. "Myne eldest son shall go wyth me, For hym have I no care, 50 And he shall breng you worde agayn[L51] How that we do fare." Thus be these yemen to London gone, As fast as they might hye, Tyll they came to the kynges pallace, 55 Where they woulde nedes be. And whan they came to the kynges courte, Unto the pallace gate, Of no man wold they aske no leave, But boldly went in therat. 60 They preced prestly into the hall, Of no man had they dreade; The porter came after and dyd them call, And with them began to chyde. The ussher sayed, "Yemen, what wold ye haue? 65 I pray you tell me; You myght thus make offycers shent: Good syrs, of whence be ye?" "Syr, we be outlawes of the forest, Certayne without any leace, 70 And hether we be come to our kyng, To get us a charter of peace." And whan they came before the kyng, As it was the lawe of the lande, The[y] kneled downe without lettyng, 75 And eche held up his hand. The[y] sayed, "Lord, we beseche the here, That ye wyll graunt us grace, For we haue slaine your fat falow der, In many a sondry place." 80 "What be your nam[e]s?" then said our king, "Anone that you tell me: They sayd, "Adam Bel, Clim of the Clough, And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè." "Be ye those theves," then sayd our kyng, 85 "That men have tolde of to me? Here to god I make a vowe, Ye shal be hanged al thre. "Ye shal be dead without mercy, As I am kynge of this lande." 90 He commanded his officers everichone Fast on them to lay hand. There they toke these good yemen, And arested them all thre: "So may I thryve," sayd Adam Bell, 95 "Thys game lyketh not me. "But, good lorde, we beseche you now, That you graunt vs grace, Insomuche as we be to you comen, Or els that we may fro you passe, 100