81 [Wyllyam] sterte to an offycer of the towne, [Hys axe] out his hande he wronge; [On eche] syde he smote them downe, [Hym tho]ught he had taryed to longe. 82 [Wyllyam] sayd to his bretheren two, [Thys daye] let vs togyder lyue and deye; [If euer you] haue nede as I haue nowe, [The same] shall ye fynde by me. 83 [They] shyt so well in that tyde, For theyr strynges were of sylke full sure, That they kepte the stretes on euery syde; That batayll dyd longe endure. 84 They fought togyder as bretheren true, Lyke hardy men and bolde; Many a man to the grounde they threwe, And made many an hertë colde. 85 But whan theyr arowes were all gone, Men presyd on them full fast; They drewe theyr swerdës than anone, And theyr bowës from them caste. 86 They wente lyghtly on theyr waye, With swerdes and buckelers rounde; By that it was the myddes of the daye, They had made many a wounde. 87 There was many a noute-horne in Carlyll blowen, And the belles backwarde dyd they rynge; Many a woman sayd alas, And many theyr handes dyd wrynge. 88 The mayre of Carlyll forth come was, And with hym a full grete route; These thre yomen dredde hym full sore, For theyr lyuës stode in doubte. 89 The mayre came armed, a full greate pace, With a polaxe in his hande; Many a stronge man with hym was, There in that stoure to stande. 90 The mayre smote at Clowdysle with his byll, His buckeler he brast in two; Full many a yoman with grete yll, ‘[Al]as, treason!’ they cryed for wo. ‘[Ke]pe we the gates fast,’ they bad, ‘[T]hat these traytours theroute not go.’ 91 But all for nought was that they wrought, For so fast they downe were layde Tyll they all thre, that so manfully fought, Were goten without at a brayde. 92 ‘Haue here your keys,’ sayd Adam Bell, ‘Myne offyce I here forsake; Yf ye do by my councell, A newë porter ye make.’ 93 He threwe the keys there at theyr hedes, And bad them evyll to thryue, And all that letteth ony good yoman To come and comforte his wyue. 94 Thus be these good yomen gone to the wode, As lyght as lefe on lynde; They laughe and be mery in theyr mode, Theyr enemyes were farre behynde. 95 Whan they came to Inglyswode, Under theyr trysty-tre, There they founde bowës full gode, And arowës greate plentë. 96 ‘So helpe me God,’ sayd Adam Bell, And Clymme of the Clowgh so fre, ‘I wolde we were nowe in mery Carlell, [Be]fore that fayre meynë.’ 97 They set them downe and made good chere, And eate an[d dr]anke full well: Here is a fytte [of] these wyght yongemen, And another I shall you tell. 98 As they sat in Inglyswode, Under theyr trysty-tre, Them thought they herde a woman [wepe], But her they myght not se.