They fought together as brethren true, Like hardy men and bold, Many a man to the ground they threw, And many a heart made cold. But when their arrows were all gone, Men pressed to them full fast, They drew their swords then anon, And their bows from them cast. They went lightly on their way, With swords and bucklers round; By that it was mid of the day, They made many a wound. There was many an out-horn[54] in Carlisle blown, And the bells backward did ring, Many a woman said, Alas! And many their hands did wring. The mayor of Carlisle forth was come, With him a full great rout: These yeomen dreaded him full sore, Of their lives they stood in doubt. The mayor came armed at full great pace, With a pollaxe in his hand; Many a strong man with him was, There in that stowre[55] to stand. The mayor smote at Cloudesly with his bill, His buckler he burst in two, Full many a yeoman with great evil, Alas! Treason they cried for woe. Keep well the gates fast, they bade, That these traitors thereout not go. But all for nought was that they wrought, For so fast they down were laid, Till they all three, that so manfully fought, Were gotten without, abroad. Have here your keys, said Adam Bell, Mine office I here forsake, And if you do by my counsel A new porter do ye make. He threw their keys at their heads, And bade them well to thrive, And all that letteth[56] any good yeoman To come and comfort his wife. Thus be these good yeomen gone to the wood, And lightly, as leaf on lynde;[57] To laugh and be merry in their mood, Their enemies were far behind. And when they came to English wood, Under the trusty tree, There they found bows full good, And arrows full great plenty. So God me help, said Adam Bell, And Clym of the Clough so free, I would we were in merry Carlisle, Before that fair meynye.[58] They sate them down, and made good cheer, And ate and drank full well. A second FYT of the wighty yeomen, Another I will you tell. PART THE THIRD. As they sat in the merry green wood, Under the green-wood tree, They thought they heard a woman weep, But her they mought[59] not see. Sore then sighed the fair Alice: That ever I saw this day! For now is my dear husband slain: Alas! and well-a-way! Might I have spoken to his dear brethren, Or with either of them twain, To show to them what him befell, My heart were out of pain. Cloudesly walked a little beside, He looked under the green-wood lynde; He was aware of his wife, and children three, Full woe in heart and mind.