He took the bonny boy in his arms, And kist him tenderlie; Says, ‘Though I would your father hang, Your mother’s dear to me.’
He kist him o’er and o’er again: ‘My grandson I thee claim, And Robin Hood in gude green-wood, And that shall be your name.’
And mony ane sings o’ grass, o’ grass, And mony ane sings o’ corn, And mony ane sings o’ Robin Hood Kens little whare he was born.
It wasna in the ha’, the ha’, Nor in the painted bower; But it was in the gude green-wood, Amang the lily-flower.
_114. Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesley_
Mery it was in the grene foreste Amonge the levès grene, Wheras men hunt east and west Wyth bowes and arrowes kene;
To raise the dere out of theyr denne; Suche sightes hath ofte bene sene; As by thre yemen of the north countrey, By them it is I meane.
The one of them hight Adam Bell, The other Clym of the Clough[660], The thyrd was Wyllyam of Cloudesley, An archer good ynough.
They were outlaw’d for venyson, These yemen everych-one; They swore them brethren upon a day, To Englyshe-wood[661] for to gone.
Now lith[662] and lysten, gentylmen, That of myrthes loveth to here: Two of them were single men, The third had a wedded fere[663].
Wyllyam was the wedded man, Muche more then was hys care: He sayde to hys brethren upon a day, To Carleile he would fare;
For to speke with fayre Alyce his wife, And with hys chyldren thre. ‘By my trouth,’ sayde Adam Bel, ‘Not by the counsell of me:
‘For if ye go to Carleile, brother, And from thys wylde wode wende, If that the Justice may you take, Your lyfe were at an ende.’--
‘If that I come not to-morowe, brother, By pryme[664] to you agayne, Truste you then that I am taken, Or else that I am slayne.’
He toke his leave of hys brethren two, And to Carleile he is gon: There he knock’d at his owne windòwe Shortlye and anone.
‘Wher be you, fayre Alyce,’ he sayd, ‘My wife and chyldren three? Lyghtly let in thyne owne husbànde, Wyllyam of Cloudesley.’--
‘Alas!’ then sayde fayre Alyce, And syghèd wonderous sore, ‘Thys place hath ben besette for you Thys halfè yere and more.’--
‘Now am I here,’ sayde Cloudesley, ‘I would that in I were. Now fetche us meate and drynke ynoughe, And let us make good chere.’
She fetchèd hym meate and drynke plentye, Lyke a true wedded wyfe; And pleasèd hym with that she had, Whom she loved as her lyfe.