"O Eland town, alack," said he, "If thou but knew of this, These foes of mine full fast would flee, And of their purpose miss. "By stealth to work must needs they go, For it had been too much, The town knowing, the lord to slo For them, and twenty such." William of Lockwood was adread The town should rise indeed; He shot the knight quite thro' the head, And slew him then with speed. His son and heir[52] was wounded there, But yet not dead at all; Into the house convey'd he were, And died in Eland hall. A full sister forsooth had he, An half brother[53] also; The full sister his heir must be, The half brother not so. The full sister his heir she was, And Savile[54] wed the same; Thus lord of Eland Savile was, And since in Savile name. Lo here the end of all mischief, From Eland, Eland's name Dispatch'd it was to their great grief, Well worthy of the same. What time these men such frays did frame Deeds have I read, and heard That Eland came to Savile's name In Edward's days the third. But as for Beaumont, and the rest, They were undone utterly; Thus simple virtue is the best, And chief felicity. By Whittle-lane end they took their flight, And to the old Earth-gate; Then took the wood, as well they might, And spy'd a privy gate. Themselves conveying craftily To Annely-wood that way, The town of Eland manfully Pursued them that day. The lord's servants throughout the town, Had cry'd with might and main,[55] "Up, gentle yeomen, make you bown, This day your lord is slain." Whittle, and Smyth, and Rimmington, Bury with many mo; As brimme as boars they made them bown, Their lord's enemies to slo. And, to be short, the people rose Throughout the town about; Then fiercely following on their foes. With hue and cry, and shout. All sorts of men show'd their good wills, Some bows and shafts did bear; Some brought forth clubs, and rusty bills, That saw no sun that year. To church now as the parish came, They join'd them with the town, Like hardy men to stand all sam, To fight now were they bown. Beaumont and Quarmby saw all this, And Lockwood where they stood; They fettled them to fence, I wis, And shot as they were wood, Till all their shafts were gone and spent, Of force then must they flee; They had dispatch'd all their intent, And lost no victory. The hardiest man of them that was, Was Quarmby, this is true; For he would never turn his face Till Eland men him slew. Lockwood, he bare him on his back, And hid him in Annely-wood;[56] To whom his purse he did betake, Of gold and silver good. "Here take you this to you," said he, "And to my cousins here; And in your mirth remember me, When you do make good cheer.