Quoth fir John Cockle, I'll pledge you a pottle, Some of your light-foot I would we had here. Ho, ho, quoth Richard, full well I may say it, "Tis knavery to eat it, and then to bewray it. Why, art thou angry? quoth our king merrily; I thought thou would'st pledge me in ale and wine heartily. Ay, marry, quoth our king, that were a dainty thing, If a man could get one here for to eat. With that Dick ftraight arofe, and pluck'd one out of his hofe, Which with heat of his breech began to sweat. The king made a proffer to fnatch it away : " 'Tis meat for your mafter: good fir, you must flay." Thus with great merriment, was the time wholly spent ; Old fir John Cockle, and Richard, incontinent, Many Many thanks for their pains did the king give them then, "Among thofe ladies free, tell me which liketh thee?" Then fir John Cockle the king called unto him, BALLAD XVI. KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY. I'll tell you a flory, a fory anon Of a noble prince, and his name was King John; For he was a prince, and a prince of great might, He held up great wrongs, and he put down great right. Derry down, down, hey derry down. I'll tell you a ftory, a ftory fo merry, Derry down, &c. How How now, brother abbot! 'tis told unto me, Derry down, &c. I hope, my liege, that you owe me no grudge, Derry down, &c. When I am fet fo high on my fteed,' Derry down, &c. And the next question thou' muft not flout, Derry down, &c. O these are hard queftions for my fhallow wit, For I cannot answer your grace as yet, Derry down, &c. O three O three days space I will thee give, For that is the longest day thou haft to live; Derry down, &c. And as the old fhepherd was going to his fold,. Derry down, &c. Sad news, fad news, I have thee to give, Derry down, &c. When he is fet fo high on his steed,' And the next queftion I must not flout, Derry down, &c. How long he fhall be riding the world about; But tell him truly what he does think. Derry down, &c. O mafter, O mafter, did you never hear it yet, Derry down, &c. Now I am fet fo high on my fteed,' With my crown of gold upon my head, Amongst all my nobility, with joy and much mirth, Now tell me, to one penny, what I am worth. Derry down, &c. For thirty pence our faviour was fold, Derry down, &c. And the next question thou mayeft not flout, And then I am fure, you will make no doubt, 1 Derry down, &c. And [at] the third question thou must not shrink, But tell to me truly what I do think. All that I can do, and 'twill make your grace merry, For you think I'm the abbot of Canterbury; But |