The seconde, to tell him, without any doubt, How soone he may ride this whole world about: And at the third question I must not shrinke, But tell him there truly what he does thinke. Now cheare up, sire abbot, did you never hear yet, That a fool he may learne a wise man witt? Lend me horse, and serving-men, and your apparel, And I'll ride to London to answere your quarrel. Nay frowne not, if it hath bin told unto mee, I am like your lordship, as ever may bee: And if you will but lend me your gowne, There is none shall knowe us in fair London towne. Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have, With sumptuous array most gallant and brave; With crozier, and miter, and rochet, and cope, Fit to appeare 'fore our fader the pope. Now welcome, sire abbot, the king he did say, 'Tis 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 bee. And first, when thou seest me here in this stead, With my crown of golde so fair on my head, Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe, Tell me to one penny what I am worth. For thirty pence our Saivour was sold Among the false Jewes, as I have bin told: And twenty-nine is the worth of thee, For I thinke, thou art one penny worser than hee. The King he laughed, and swore by St. 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 St. 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 mee. 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. Four nobles a week, 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. THE BAFFLED KNIGHT, OR LADY'S POLICY [A VERY FAVORITE ANCIENT BALLAD.] PERCY RELIQUES There was a knight was drunk with wine, A riding along the way, sir; And there he met with a lady fine, Among the cocks of hay, sir. Shall you and I, O lady faire, Among the grass lye down-a: And I will have a special care, Of rumpling of your gowne-a. Upon the grass there is a dewe, Will spoil my damask gowne, sir: My gowne and kirtle they are newe, And cost me many a crowne, sir.