K, JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY.
The common popular ballad of KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT feems to have been abridged and modernized about the time of James I. from one much older, intitled, “KING "JOHN AND THE BISHOP OF CANTERBURY." The Editor's folio MS. contains a copy of this last, but in too corrupt ftate to be reprinted; it however afforded many lines worth revifing, which will be found inferted in the enfuing ftanza:
The archness of the following questions and anfwers bath been much admired by our old ballad-makers: for befides tet two copies abovementioued, there is extant another ballad on the fame fubject, (but of no great antiquity or merit) intitled, "KING OLFREY AND THE ABBOT." Lafily, about the time of the civil wars, when the cry ran against the bishops, Some Puritan worked up the fame ftory into a very doleful ditty, to a folemn tune, concerning "KING HENRY AND A SHOP," with this fringing moral,
"Unlearned men hard matters out can find,
"When learned bishops princes eyes do blind.”
The following is chiefly printed from an ancient black-letter copy, "To the tune of Derry down."
N ancient story Ile tell you anon
Of a notable prince, that was called king John; And he ruled England with maine and with might, For he did great wrong, and maintein'd little right.
And Ile tell you a ftory, a story so merrye,
Concerning the Abbot of Canterburye;
How for his houfe-keeping, and high renowne,
They rode pofte for him to fair London towne.
An hundred men, the king did heare fay,
The abbot kept in his houfe every day;
And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt,
In velvet coates waited the abbot about.
How now, father abbot, I heare it of thee,
Thou keepest a farre better houfe than mee,
And for thy houfe-keeping and high renowne,
I feare thou work'st treason against my crowne.
My liege, quo' the abbot, I would it were knowne,
I never spend nothing, but what is my owne;
And I truft, your grace will doe me no deere,
For fpending of my owne true-gotten geere.
Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is highe,
And now for the fame thou needeft must dye,
For except thou canst answer me queftions three,
Thy head shall be fmitten from thy bodie.
And firft, quo' the king, when I'm in this ftead,
With my crowne of golde fo faire on my head,
Among all my liege-men fo noble of birthe
Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worthe.
Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt,
How foone I may ride the whole world about;
And at the third question thou must not shrink,
But tell me here truly what I do think
O, these are hard queftions for my fhallow witt,
Nor I cannot answer your grace, as yet;
But if you will give me but three weekes fpace,
Ile do my endeavour to answer your grace.
Now three weeks fpace to thee will I give,
And that is the longest time thou hast to live;
For if thou doft not answer my questions three,
Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to mee.
Away rode the abbot all fad at that word,
And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford;
But never a doctor there was fo wife,
That could with his learning an answer devise.
Then home rode the abbot of comfort fo cold,
And he mett his fhepheard a going to fold:
How now, my lord abbot, you're welcome home;
What newes do you bring us from good king John?
Sad newes, fad newes, fhepheard, I must give;
That I have but three days more to live:
Forif I do not anfwere him queftions three,
My head will be fmitten from my bodie.
The firft is to tell him there in that ftead,
With his crowne of golde fo fair on his head,
Among all his liege-men fo noble of birth,
To within one penny of what he is worthe.
The feconde, to tell him, without any doubt,
How foone he may ride this whole world about:
And at the thirde queftion I must not shrinke,
But tell him there truly what he does thinke.
Now cheare up, fire abbot, did you never hear yet,
That a fool may learn a wife man witt?
Lend me horse, and ferving men, and your apparel,
And I'll ride to London to anfwere 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 at fair London towne.
Now horses, and ferving-men thou shalt have,
With fumptuous array most gallant and brave;
With crozier, and miter, and rochet, and cope,
Fit to appeare 'fore our fader the pope.
Now welcome, fire abbot, the king did fay,
Tis well thou'rt come back to keepe thy day;
For an if thou canft answer my questions three,
Thy life and thy living both faved shall bee.
VOL. II.
And firft, when thou feest me here in this ftead,
With my crown of golde so fair on my head,
Among all my liege-men fo noble of birthe,
Tell me to one penny what I am worth.
For thirty pence our Saviour was fold
Amonge the falfe Jewes, as I have bin told;
And twenty nine is the worth of thee,
For I thinke, thou art one penny worfer than hee.
The king he laughed, and fwore by St. Bittel,
I did not think I had been worth fo littel!
-Now fecondly tell me, without any doubt,
How foone I may ride this whole world about.
You must rife with the fun, and ride with the fame,
Until the next morning he rifeth againe ;
And then your grace
But in twenty four hours you'll ride it about.
The king he laughed, and fwore by St. Jone,
I did not think, it could be gone fo fooue!
--Now from the third question thou must not shrinke,
But tell me here truly what I do thinke.
Yea, that fhall I do, and make your grace merry :
You thinke I'in the abbot of Canterbury;
• Meaning probably St. Botolph.
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