"Yes, yes, father abbot, thy faulte it is highe, And now for the same thou needest must dye; And except thou canst answer me questions three, Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodie. "And first," quo' the king, "when I'm in this stead, With my crown of golde so faire on my head, Among all my liegemen so noble of birthe, Thou must tell to one penny what I am worthe. "Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt, How soon 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 deep questions for my shallow witt, Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet: But if you will give me but three weekes space, I'll do my endeavor to answer your grace." "Now three weekes space to thee will I give, And that is the longest thou hast to live; For unless thou answer my questions three, Thy life and thy lands are forfeit to mee." Away rode the abbot all sad at this 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 mett his shepheard a going to fold: "How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home; What newes do you bring us from good king John?" "Sad newes, sad newes, shepheard, 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 crowne of golde so fair on his head, Among all his liege men so noble of birth, To within one penny of what he is worth. "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 trulye what he does thinke."