As they sat in Inglyswode, Under theyr trysty tre[686], They thought they herd a woman wepe, But her they mought not se. XCIX Sore syghèd there fayre Alyce, and sayd ‘That ever I sawe thys day! For nowe is my dere husband slayne: Alas! and wel-a-waye! C ‘Myght I have spoken wyth hys dere brethren, Or with eyther of them twayne, To show to them what him befell, My hart were out of payne.’ CI Cloudesley walked a lytle beside, Looked under the grene wood lynde, He was ware of his wife and chyldren three, Full wo in herte and mynde. CII ‘Welcome, wyfe,’ then sayde Wyllyam, ‘Under this trysty tre: I had wende yesterday, by swete saynt John, Thou sholdest me never have se.’-- CIII ‘Now well is me that ye be here, My harte is out of wo.’-- ‘Dame,’ he sayde, ‘be mery of chere, And thanke my brethren two.’ CIV ‘Herof to speake,’ said Adam Bell, ‘I-wis it is no bote: The meate, that we must supp withall, It runneth yet fast on fote.’ CV Then went they downe into a launde[687]. These noble archars all thre; Eche of them slew a hart of greece[688]. The best they cold there se. CVI ‘Have here the best, Alyce, my wyfe,’ Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudesley; ‘By cause ye so bouldly stode me by When I was slayne full nye.’ CVII Then wente they to theyr suppere Wyth such meate as they had; And thankèd God of theyr fortune: They were both mery and glad. CVIII And when that they had suppèd well, Certayne withouten lease[689], Cloudesley sayd, ‘We wyll to our Kynge, To get us a charter of peace. CIX ‘Alyce shal be at sojournyng In a nunnery here besyde; My tow[690] sonnes shall wyth her go, And there they shall abyde. CX ‘My eldest son shall go wyth me; For hym have I no care: And he shall bring you worde agayn, How that we do fare.’ CXI Thus be these wightmen[691] to London gone As fast as they myght hye, Tyll they came to the Kynge’s pallàce, Where they woulde needès be. CXII And whan they came to the Kynge’s courte, Unto the pallace gate, Of no man wold they aske no leave, But boldly went in therat. CXIII They presyd prestly[692] into the hall, Of no man had they dreade: The porter came after, and dyd them call, And with them began to chyde. CXIV The usher sayde, ‘Yemen, what wold ye have? I pray you tell to me. You myght thus make offycers shent[693]: Good syrs, of whence be ye?’-- CXV ‘Syr, we be outlawes of the forest, Certayne withouten lease; And hether we be come to the Kyng, To get us a charter of peace.’ CXVI