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That little boy was town swine herd;
And kept fair Alice's swine,
He had seen Cloudeslie in the wood,
And gave him three to dine,
(illegible text) went through a crevice of the wall:
Swift to the wood he run;
Where he met with these wight yeomen,
Speedily and anon.
Alas! then, said the little boy,
You tarry here too long;
Cloudeslie’s ta’en and doom'd to death,
And ready to be hang'd,
Alas! then, said good Adam Bell,
That e’er we saw this day:
He might have tarried here with us,
For oft we did him pray.
He might have staid in the forest,
Under the shadows green,
And kept himself and us at rest,
Out of trouble and teen.
Adam then bent a right good bow,
A great hart soon had slain;
⟨Take⟩ that, child, he said, to thy dinner,
And bring my arrow again.
We go hence, said the jolly yeomen,
Tarry no longer here;
We shall him borrow by good fate,
Though we buy it full dear.
To Carlisle went these good yeomen,
