And first, when thou seest me here in this stead,
With my crown of gold so fair on my head,
Among all my liege-men so noble of birth,
Tell me to one penny what I am worth.
For thirty pence our Saviour was sold
Among the false Jews, as I have been told;
And twenty-nine is the worth of thee,
For I think, thou art one penny worser than he.
The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel,[128]
I did not think I had been worth so little!
—Now secondly tell me, without any doubt,
How soon I may ride this whole world about.
You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same,
Until the next morning he riseth again;
And then your grace need not make any doubt,
But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about.
The king he laughed, and swore by St. Jone,
I did not think it could be gone so soon!
—Now from the third question thou must not shrink,
But tell me here truly what I do think.
Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry:
You think I'm the abbot of Canterbùry;
But I'm his poor shepherd, as plain you may see,
That am come to beg pardon for him and for me.
The king he laughed, and swore by the mass,
I'll make thee lord abbot this day in his place!
Now nay, my liege, be not in such speed,
For, alack, I can neither write nor read.
Four nobles a week then I will give thee,
For this merry jest thou hast shown unto me;
And tell the old abbot when thou com'st home,
Thou hast brought him a pardon from good king John.
