33
Then the shepard he had noe more to say,
But tooke the pardon and rode his way:
When he came to the bishopps place,
The bishopp asket anon how all things was.
34
'Brother,' quoth the shepard, 'I haue well sped,
For I haue saued both your land and your head;
The king with you is nothing wrath,
For heere is the pardon for you and mee both.'
35
Then the bishopes hart was of a merry cheere:
'Brother, thy paines Ile quitt them cleare;
For I will giue thee a patent to thee and to thine
Of fifty pound a yeere, land good and fine.'
36
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
'I will to thee noe longer croche nor creepe,
Nor Ile serue thee noe more to keepe thy sheepe.'
37
Whereeuer wist you shepard before,
That had in his head witt such store
To pleasure a bishopp in such a like case,
To answer three questions to the kings grace?
Whereeuer wist you shepard gett cleare
Three hundred and fifty pound a yeere?
38
I neuer hard of his fellow before,
Nor I neuer shall: now I need to say noe more.
I neuer knew shepeard that gott such a liuinge
But David, the shepeard, that was a king.
B.
Broadside, printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden Ball in Pye-corner (1672-95).
1
I'll tell you a story, a story anon,
Of a noble prince, and his name was King John;
For he was a prince, and a prince of great might,
He held up great wrongs, he put down great right.
Derry down, down hey, derry down
2
I'll tell you a story, a story so merry,
Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury,
And of his house-keeping and high renown,
Which made him resort to fair London town.