"How now, Father Abbot, I hear it of thee,
Thou keepest a far better house than me;
And for thy housekeeping and high renown,
I fear thou work'st treason against my crown."
"My liege," quo' the Abbot, "I would it were knowne,
I never spend nothing but what is my owne;
And I trust your Grace will not put me in fear,
For spending of my owne true-gotten gear."
"Yes, yes, Father Abbot, thy fault is highe,
And now for the same thou needst must dye;
For except thou canst answer me questions three,
Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodìe.
"And first," quo' the King, "when I'm in this stead,
With my crowne of golde so faire on my head,
Among all my liege-men, so noble of birthe,
Thou must tell to one penny what I am worthe.
"Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt,
How soone I may ride the whole world about,
And at the third question thou must not shrink,
But tell me here truly what I do think."
"Oh, these are hard questions for my shallow witt,
Nor I cannot answer your Grace as yet;
But if you will give me but three weekes space,
Ile do my endeavour to answer your Grace."
"Now three weeks' space to thee will I give,
And that is the longest time thou hast to live;
For if thou dost not answer my questions three,
Thy land and thy livings are forfeit to me."
Away rode the Abbot all sad at that word,
And he rode to Cambridge and Oxenford;
But never a doctor there was so wise,
That could with his learning an answer devise.
Then home rode the Abbot of comfort so cold,
And he met his Shepherd a-going to fold:
"How now, my Lord Abbot, you are welcome home;
What news do you bring us from good King John?"
"Sad news, sad news, Shepherd, I must give,
That I have but three days more to live;
I must answer the King his questions three,
Or my head will be smitten from my bodie.