"O these are hard questions for my shallow wit, Nor I cannot answer your Grace as yet; But if you will give me but three weeks' space, I'll do my endeavor 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 land and thy livings are forfeit to me."
Away rode the Abbot all sad at that word, And he rode to Cambridge and Oxenford; But never a doctor there was so wise, That could with his learning an answer devise.
Then home rode the Abbot of comfort so cold, And he met his shepherd a-going to fold: "How now, my lord Abbot, you are welcome home; What news do you bring us from good King John?"
"Sad news, sad news, shepherd, I must give, That I have but three days more to live; For if I do not answer him questions three, My head will be smitten from my bodie.
"The first is to tell him there in that stead, With his crown of gold so fair on his head, Among all his liegemen so noble of birth, To within one penny of what he is worth.
"The second to tell him without any doubt, How soon he may ride this whole world about; And at the third question I must not shrink, But tell him there truly what he does think."
"Now cheer up, sir Abbot, did you never hear yet That a fool he may learn a wise man wit? Lend me horse, and serving men, and your apparel, And I'll ride to London to answer your quarrel.
"Nay, frown not, if it hath been told unto me, I am like your lordship as ever may be; And if you will but lend me your gown There is none shall know us in fair London town."
"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 appear 'fore our father the Pope."
"Now welcome, sir Abbot," the king he did say, "'Tis well thou'rt come back to keep 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 crown of gold so fair on my head, Among all my liegemen so noble of birth, Tell me to one penny what I am worth."
"For thirty pence our Savior was sold Among the false Jews, as I have been told: And twenty-nine is the worth of thee, For I think thou art one penny worser than he."