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ABBOT OP CANTERBURY.
" Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is highe, And now for the same thou needest must dye ; For except thou canst answer me questions three, Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodle.
" And first," quo' the king, " when I'm in this stead, 25
With my crowne of golde so faire on my head, Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe, Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worthe.
" Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt, How soone I may ride the whole world about; so And at the third question thou must not shrink, But tell me here truly what I do think."
"0 these are hard questions for my shallow
witt, Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet: But if you will give me but three weekes space, ss lie do my endeavour to answer your grace."
" Now three weeks space to thee will I give, And that is the longest time thou hast to live; For if thou dost not answer my questions three, Thy lands-and thy livings are forfeit to mee." «
Away rode the abbot all sad at that word, And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford ;