"Nay, frowne not, if it hath bin told unto me, I am like your lordship, as ever may be; And if you will but lend me your gowne, There is none shall know us at fair London towne."
"Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have. With sumptuous array most gallant and brave, With crozier, and mitre, and rochet, and cope, Fit to appear 'fore our fader the pope."
"Now welcome, sire abbot," the king he did say, "'T is well thou'rt come back to keepe thy day: For and if thou canst answer my questions three, Thy life and thy living both saved shall be.
"And first, when thou seest me here in this stead, With my crowne of golde so fair on my head, Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe, Tell me to one penny what I am worthe."
"For thirty pence our Saviour was sold Among the false Jews, as I have bin told, And twenty-nine is the worth of thee, For I thinke thou art one penny worser than he."
The king he laughed, and swore by Saint Bittel, "I did not think I had been worth so littel! —Now secondly tell me, without any doubt, How soone I may ride this whole world about."
"You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same Until the next morning he riseth againe; 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 Saint Jone, "I did not think it could be gone so soone! —Now from the third question thou must not shrinke, But tell me here truly what I do thinke."
"Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry; You thinke I'm the Abbot of Canterbury; But I'm his poor shepheard, as plain you may see, That am come to beg pardon for him and for me."
The king he laughed, and swore by the Masse, "Ile 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."