‘Yea, that shall I do, and make your Grace merry:
You thinke I’m the Abbot of Canterbùrye;
But I’m his poor shepheard, as plain you may see,
That am come to beg pardon for him and for mee.’
XXVI
The King he laughed, and swore by the Masse,
‘I’ll make thee Lord Abbot this day in his place!’—
‘Now naye, my liege, be not in such speede,
For alacke I can neither write, ne reade.’—
XXVII
‘Four nobles a weeke, then, I will give thee
For this merry jest thou hast showne unto mee;
And tell the old Abbot when thou comest home,
Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John.
[174. The Children in the Wood]
I
Now ponder well, you parents dear,
These words which I shall write;
A doleful story you shall hear,
In time brought forth to light.
A gentleman of good account
In Norfolk dwelt of late,
Who did in honour far surmount
Most men of his estate.