"
Adam bent a right good bow,
A great hart soon had he slain:
"Take that, child," he said, "to thy dinner,
And bring me mine arrow again."
"Now go we hence," said these wight yeomen,
"Tarry we no longer here;
We shall him borrow, by God's grace,
Though we abye it full dear."
To Carlisle went these good yeom-en
On a merry morning of May.
Here is a fytte of Cloudeslie,
And another is for to say.
THE SECOND FYTTE.
And when they came to merry Carlisle,
All in a morning tide,
They found the gates shut them until,
Round about on every side.
"Alas," then said good Adam Bell,
"That ever we were made men!
These gates be shut so wonderly well,
That we may not come here in."
Then spake him Clym of the Clough:
"With a wile we will us in bring;
Let us say we be messengers,
Straight comen from our King."
Adam said: "I have a letter written well,
Now let us wisely werk;
We will say we have the King-e's seal,
I hold the porter no clerk."
Then Adam Bell beat on the gate,
With strok-es great and strong;
The porter heard such noise thereat,
And to the gate he throng.
"Who is there now," said the porter,
"That maketh all this knocking?"
"We be two messengers," said Clym of the Clough,
"Be comen straight from our King.
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