A New Ballad of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury- Chappell; pre-1685
[From The Roxburghe Ballads, Volume 6 By William Chappell, Ballad Society come three versions:
1) A New Ballad of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury (Child B)
2) The King and the Bishop
3) The Old Abbot and King Olfrey
Included are notes from Percy and various quotes.
R. Matteson 2012]
King John and the Abbot of Canterbury [The Roxburghe ballads, Volume 6 By William Chappell, Ballad Society]
"Not with blinded eye-sight poring over miserable books!" —Tennyson's Locksley Sail.
To be inconstant in their moods, so as at times to decry the pursuit of knowledge which had earlier won their heart, is the common fate of students; such it was caused Faustus to listen to Alephistopheles, when regretting his past relinquishment of enjoyment: such also may have suggested the popular ballad of "The King and the Abbot of Canterbury."
Spiteful Puritans of later times (see p. 750, quolat.) exultantly seized the chance of depreciating book-learned Churchmen, by contrasting the superior sense of the illiterate laity, to which themselves belonged. Modern realistic novelists might similarly demonstrate a monopoly of virtues and intellect in the laborious poor; whether it be to level them up, or more probably to level down the episcopate to 'Les Miserable*'—' Let Travailleurs de la Terre,' or Zola's ' La Terre,' itself.
Attempts have been made to trace to their origin the employment of such presumably insoluble questions as those in our text, questions admitting of simple and conclusive answers, such as would disappoint the propounder's greediness for gain of an expected forfeiture. The search leads through the literature of many nations and to remote ages.
It is not only to the Gesta Pomanorum, to Sacchetti's Kovelli, No. 4; to the Coutes a Pire; or to the translation from Alain Chartier, 1511 and 1566; Delectable Demaundes and Pleasant Questions; but to the disputations or witcombats of the Middle Ages, such as the so-called Anglo-Saxon of Salomon and Saturn. The opposition of a clownish buffoon, such as Marcolf. enhanced the solemnity of the other disputation. (We trace this contrast throughout the bantering between Olivia and Feste the Jester, in Twelfth A'ight.) Reference is made elsewhere to Jewish tradition; to the questions interchanged by King Solomon and Iliram of Tyre, or with the Queen of Sheba. Of such disquisition we pass not the threshold. As in Browning's Solomon and Balkis—
"She proves him with hard questions: before she has reached the middle
He smiling supplies the end, straight solves them, riddle by riddle."
The story is ancient, exemplifying that 'Eiddle-me-Ree' Puzzlewit suitable for minstrels of interminable verbosity, at winter firesides in rural mansions. The earliest and most complete version extant is in the Percy Folio MS. (p. 184), as "Kinge John and Bishopp," beginning " Of an ancient story l le tell yon anon, of a notable Prince t[hat] was called K. John :" (printed direct from the MS., our own collation, in Miss De Vayncs's Kentish Garland, pp. 461-460). It is in length 166 lines, and was afterwards condensed temp. Juc. I., into its present form. Other versions begin respectively, "An ancient story," "I will tell you a story," etc. Burger translated it into German, as lhr Kaiser und der Abt, beginning, " Ich will ouch erziihlenein Marchen, gar shnurrig." The tune (known later as Death and the Cobler, and from Richard Leveridgi s song. lA Ceblcr there teas'), with its burden of Derry doicn, is in Popular Music, p. 350. Other copies are in Bagford Coll., II. 27; Pepys, II. 128; Euing, 223; Ouvry, I. 60. Compare the two following ballads on the tame theme, on our pp. 751-754.
[Roxburgh Collection, III. 494, 883; Jersey, II. 124. Cf. p. 746.]
A New Ballad of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury
To The Tune Of The King and the Lord Abbot.
With Allowance. Ro. L'Estrange.
ILe tell you a Story, a Story 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, he put down great Right.
Derry down, down, hey derry down.
He tell you a Story, a Story so merry,
Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury,
And of his House-keeping and high Renown,
Which made him resort to fair London Town.
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.] 10
"How now, Brother Abbot? 'tis told unto me
That thou keepest a far better House than I:
And for thy House-keeping and High Renown,
I fear thou hast Treason against my Crown."
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
"I hope, my Liege, that you owe me no grudge,
For spending of my true-gotten goods."
"If thou dost not answer me questions three,
Thy head shall be taken from thy Body.
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.] 20
"When I am set on my steed so high,
With my Crown of Gold upon my head,
Amongst all my Nobility with joy and much mirth,
Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worth.
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
"And the next Question you must not flout,
How long I shall be riding the World about:
And the third Question thou must not shrink; [al. lect. And from]
But tell to me truly what I do think."
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.] 30
"0 these are hard Questions for my shallow wit,
For I cannot answer your Grace as yet;
But if you will give me but three days' space,
I'le do my endeavour to answer Your Grace."
Derry down, down, hey derry down.
"0 three days' space I will thee give,
For that is the longest day thou hast to live;
And if thou dost not answer these questions right,
Thy head shall be taken from thy body quite."
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.] 40
And as the Shepherd was going to his fold,
He spy'd the old Abbot come riding along,
How now, Master Abbot? you'r Welcome Home,
What News have yon brought from good King John?"
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
Sad news, sad news, I have thee to give,
For I have but three days' space for to live;
If I do not answer him questions three,
My head shall be taken from my body.
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.] 50
When he is sat so high on his Steed, [transp. in Ill ms]
With his Crown of Gold upon his head,
Amongst all his Nobility with joy and much mirth,
I must tell him to one penny what he is worth.
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
And the next Question I must not flout,
How long he shall be riding the World about;
And the third Question thou must not shrink, [al. lect. And from].
But tell to him truly what he does think."
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.] 60
0 Master, did you never hear it yet,
That a Fool may learn a Wise man wit; ['learn'=teach]
Lend me but your Horse and your apparel,
He ride to fair London, and answer the Quarrel."
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
Now I am set so high on my steed, [The King asks]
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, [down, hey derry down.]
"O For thirty pence our Saviour was sold,
Amongst the false Jews, as you have been told;
And nine-and-twenty's the worth of thee,
For I think thou art one penny worser than he."
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
And the next question thou mayest not flout,
How long I shall be riding the World about?"
You must rise with the Sun, and ride with the same,
Until the next morning he rises again;
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
And then I am sure, you will make no doubt,
But in twenty-four hours you'l ride it about"
And the third question you must not shrink, [i.e. shirk]
But tell to me truly what I do think."
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
Well that I can do, and 'twill make you merry,
For you think I'm the Abbot of Canterbury,
But I'm his poor Shepherd, as you may see,
And am come to beg pardon for him and for me." [a.l. "he an me"]
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
The King he turn'd him about, and did smile,
Saying, "Thou shalt be the Abbot the other while."
"O no, my Grace, there is no such need, [a.l. "my Liege."]
For I can neither Write nor Read."
Derry down, [down, hey derry down.]
"Then four pounds a week will I give unto thee,
For this merry true jest thou hast told unto me;
And tell the old Abbot when thou comest home,
Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John.'''
Derry down, down, hey derry down. 100
FINIS
Printed for P. Brooksly at the Golden Ball in Pye- Corner.
[Roxb. Coll., III. 883, is in Black-letter, of not later date than August, 16S5, licensed by Roger 1, 'Estrange: two woodcuts, a king and the man of p. 50. Roxb. Coll. (III. 494) is in White-letter, with two woodcuts, one on p. 217: colophon, "A'etceattk - upon - Tyne. Printed and sold by John White" (circa 1777), reprinted from an earlier edition than Philip Brooksby's, which has, twice, misprint "sat on his steed so high." spoiling the rhyme, instead of "sat so high on his steed;" also, "for he and for me," line 89.]
The King and the Bishop.
"Ah! que Tons savez mal vous defendre pour un hommc do cour."—Moliere.
THIS is No. 22 in Thackeray's List, April, 1685. {Bagford 1 Ballads, p. lxi.) So long ago as 1882, in a foot-note to the second volume, p. 469, of Miss Julia B. L. De Vaynes' Kentish Garland (printed by Messrs. Stephen Austin and Sons, Hertford, a book already ' rare' and prized), the present Editor recorded a definite promise to reprint "The King and the Bishop;" also "The old Abbot and King Olfrey." This promise is now fulfilled, on our pp. 751, 753. Every promise may be kept in due time, if the Wandering J. W.E. be allowed a long lease, like the other Wandering JEW, vide ante pp. 688-700). The reprint comes fitly into tho "Group of Legendary and Romantic Ballads," dedicated to the samo faithful friend, in whose Kentish Garland the promise was made.
There are inconveniences in having acquired a good character. Persons who enjoy the possession of an utterly bad one place us at a terrible disadvantage. If they ever, by accident or design, perpetrate a generous and meritorious action, their good deed so shines in a naughty world, and brings upon people the sense of surprise from being wholly unexpected and unprecedented, that praise and pmlding become their instantaneous payment. Few men feci truly grateful to an habitual benefactor? (see Margaret Veley's 'Bamocles'). A benefactress who has devoted her life to sweetness and generous gifts can seldom in this world meet her due reward. Ingratitudeto a woman is "No now thing," as W. E. Norris has shown, ami Thackeray, with unwonted sweetness, foreshadowed it, when thus describing Lady Castlewood :—
"It was this lady's disposition to think kindnesses, and dense silent bounties, and to scheme benevolence, for those about her. We take such (roodness, for the most part, as if it was our due; the Marys who bring oiatment for our feet yet but little thanks. Some of us never feel this devotion at all, or are moved by it to gratitude or acknowledgement; others only recall it years after, when the days are past in which tljose sweet kindnesses were spent on us. and we offer bid our return for the debt by a poor tardy payment of tears. Then forgotten tones of love recur to us, and kind glances shine out of the past—0 so bright and clear! 0 so longed after !—because they are out of reach; as holiday music from withinside a prison-wall—or sunshine seen through the bars; more prized because unattainable—more bright because of the contrast of present darkness and solitude, whence there is no escape."—Esmond, Book I. chapter ix.
Bishop Percy's words are these (Reliquez, 1767 edition, ii. 306) :—
"The common popular ballad of 'King John and the Abbot' seems to hate been abridged and modernized about the time of James I. from one much older, entitled 'King John and the Bishop of Canterbury.' The Editor's folio MS. contains a copy of this last, but in too corrupt a state to be reprinted; it however afforded many lines worth reviving. The archness of the following questions and answers hath been much admired by our old ballad-makers; for besides the two copies above mentioned, there is extant another ballad on the same mhjtct (but ol no great antiquity or merit), entitled 'KING OLFREY AND THE ABBOT.'
"Lastly, about the time of the civil wars, when the cry ran against the Bishops some Puritan worked up the same story into a very doleful ditty, to a solemn ttutt, concerning ' King Henry and a Bishop' with this stinging moral: 'Unlearned men hard matters out can find. When learned bishops princes' eyes do blind.'"
• Percy's Note.—"See the Collection of Hist. Ballads, 3 vols. 1727. Mr. Wise supposes Olfrey to be a corruption of Alfred, in his pamphlet concanin;' the White Horse in Berkshire, p. 18."
[The pamphlet here indicated by Dr. Percy is A letter to Dr. Mead concerning some Antiquities in Berkshire: By Francis Wise, B.D., Oxford. 17$. He declares that King Alfred "is the person meant by King Olfrey in the original ballad, tho' more modern bards have transferred the story to King John;" and he cites J. Roberts's Collection of Old Ballads, 1723, vol. ii. p. 50. Wise's erroneous allegations were controverted by a Mr. Bumpstead, who under the pseudonym of Philalethes Rusticus in 1740 wrote a shilling quarto, entitled, The Impertinence ami Imposture of Modern Antiquaries Displayed; or, Refutative of the Rev. Mr. Wise's Letter to Dr. Mead, etc. This, in 1741, was followed by An Answer to the scandalous Libel, entitled ' The Impertinence and lapatun.]
Probably for the first time, these three distinct versions are now brought together (the Percy Folio MS. earlier version is reprinted in The Kentish Garland). The unwise attempt to connect good King Alfred's name with such a transaction is absurd and libellous. Thomas Hill's ballad, "Can you Dance The Shaking of the Sheets" in 1589, has been reprinted in vol. iii. p. 184 of Roxburghe Ballads, by Mr. Wm. Chappell, who gave the tune in his Popular Music, p. 85; and on his pp. 198, 199 the two tunes for Chevy Chaee, one being In peas-cod time, the other, alternatively, When Flying Fame.
[Roxburghe Collection, III. 170; Douce (dupli.), I. 109 verso; Pepys, I. 472.]
The King and the Bishop, or,
Unlearned Men hard matters out can find
When Learned Bishops Princes eyes do blind.
To The Tune of Chevy Chase. [See pp. 672, 740, 750.]
IN Popish time, when Bishops proud in England did bear sway,
Their Lordships did like Princes live, and kept all at obey;
Their Palaces with arrace hang'd, their houses shin'd with gold: [arras.]
Their train of gallant Gentlemen, most stately to behold.
A King then in this land did raign, (some say 'twas old Henry)
One day he for a Bishop sent, his scholarship to try;
Then straightway to the Court he went, in all his pomp and state,
And took it for a favour great, upon the King to wait. 8
And when [he] came unto the King, he did both bow and bend,
His Grace's pleasure he did crave, why he for him did send.
"Bishop" (quoth be), " I sent for thee, to put thee to a task,
And I resolved true will be of three things I will ask.
"And three weeks' time I will thee give on it to meditate,
And then if yu not tell me true, I vow to have thv pate."
"If that it like your Majesty" (the Bishop then did say),
"I'le try the utmost of my skill your will for to obey." 16
"The first thing now" (then said the King) "is this that I would know,
Unto a very hour the time a traveller may go
About the vast and spacious world, and then return again
Unto the place he did set forth, and this I know would fain.
"The second thing that tell you must, even to one poor half-crown,
What I am worth, that am a King; " (this made the Bishop frown)
"The third thing it is this" (he said) "the which you must explain,
To tell to me what I do think, when you come here again. 21
"And so, good Bishop, you do know what things I do desire,
And for to be resolv'd therefore of you I do require.
Tell me the truth and keep your time, or else your head shall five
From off your shoulders when you come: your wits you now must try.''
"These aro hard things to be resolv'd," unto the King he said;
"No man on earth can tell the same, I greatly am afraid:
Vet I will try the greatest skill." and so he took his leave—
The task and sentence both were hard, which made bis Lordship grieve. 32
The Second Part, To The Same Tune.
WHen he came home to study hard the Bishop then did go,
His brains did hammer in his head, his heart was fil'd with woe;
But vet for all his learning great, these tilings he could not find.
The time began for to expire, which did torment his mind.
The heavy sentence of the King did touch him to the quick;
With grief and overstudying he presently fell sick.
The Bishop he a brother had, a man that hard did fare,
A Shepherd by profession, for whom he did not care. 40
This Shepherd when that he did hear his brother sick did lye,
To visit him he did think best before that he should dye.
With much ado, at length he got admittance him to see;
It griev'd the poor man to the heart at this his misery.
Saluting his Lord brother then, asked him how he did do;
He answered him with heavy heart, "O full of grief and woe;
You cannot help my misery, no man my life can save,
The task's too hard for me to do, the King my head will have." 48
"Dear brother" (then the Shepherd said) " to me your grief explain,
And if that I can save your life, I'le venture to be slain."
The Bishop told him every thing 'cause he ado did make.
"If this be all," the Shepherd said, " the same I'le undertake.
"Tou know that we are very like in person, speech and face,
Let me put on your Robes of State, I'le execute the place.
Your trains of gallants to the Court must bear me company,
And if I do not tell these things, instead of you I'le dye." 56
The time being come, next day he went to see his Majesty,
Who presently was entertain'd with courtlike courtesie.
"Now, welcome, Bishop," (quoth the King) " can you resolve me true?
And if you cannot," he did say, " I know what I must do."
"Unto your Grace's question, the first, I answer make:
Let any man ascend the sky, and the Sun's chariot take,
In twenty and four hours' time, about the world may ride,
The which is but one day and night, this journey to abide." 64
"Thou sayest true" (then said the King), "unto the second then."
"Now unto that" (the Shepherd said), " I answer thus agen;
The King of Kings, our Saviour Christ, for thirty pence was sold,
I under-value you by far, for all your Crown of gold."
Then said the King, " Bishop, 'tis right, what thou hast said before;
Now tell me truly what I think, and I will ask no more."
"You think that I the Bishop am," the Shepherd then did say:
"Why so I think," then quoth the King, "in spight of all says nay."
"You have confest I told your thought, an't like your Majesty,
Although I w[e]are the Bishop's robe, a Shepherd poor am I:
One father and one mother both we had, and brethren are,
And for to please your Royal Grace my brother had a care.
"He now lies sick neer unto death, and hither did me send,
Who bid me tell you all these things, for fear he should offend."
"Commend me to him" (quoth the King) " and thank him heartily,
He now hath satisfied my mind, and pleased well am I." 80
A hundred pound the King bestowed upon the Shepherd then,
And taking leave away he went with all his Gentlemen.
When to the Bishop he did come, all things he did relate,
He thank'd his brother, and was glad of this his happy fate.
Upon him he bestow'd a Farm, of forty pounds a year,
As well he might for he did find of him a brother dear.
And thus unlearned men sometimes, hard matters out can find,
When learned Bishops miss the mark, and Princes' eyes do blind.
London, Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright. 88
[Black-letter, two cuts: 1st, a King (on p. 661), 2nd, a Bishop (Williams). Pepys p. for J. Wright,] Clarke, W. Thackeray, T. Vauinger. Written, 1642]
[Pepys Collection, II. 127; Douce, II. 169.]
The Old Abbot and King Olfrey
To The Tune Of, The Shaking of the Sheet). [See p. 750.]
IN old times past there was a King, we read, was bountiful in each degree,
That gave rewards to each Subject's need, so orderly as it might be;
And kept his Princely Pallaty, in every kingly quality,
Maintaining Hospitality.
Then the King was given to understand, there liv'd an Abbot in those days,
That kept a noble House, and such a band of comely Men at all assays:
That made the King to marvel much, the Abbot's living should be such,
And how he came to be so rich.
Then the King sent for the Abbot strait, to come to Court he might him see,
To number the Men on him did wait, the multitude as it might be;
And thither went the Lord Abbot then, and after him Five Hundred Men,
To guard him out and home again. 12
Then the noble King he did demand, of his House-keeping and all his Train,
"How chance you keep so many men?" quoth he, "Or how come you by all your Gain?" [Sic qu. 'Quoth he' redundant?]
"Unto your Grace I'll make it known, I hope my cause is quickly shown,
For I spend no more than is my own."
"Thon art too wealthy," said the King, "and it is time to cut off your Head:
For I do suppose in every thing how daintily you must be fed:
Unless you can resolve to me, within one year these Questions three,
Tour Head shall be off, I'll warrant ye.
"First of all, you must declare to me, to the uttermost what I am worth;
See that you have a ready care," quoth he, " for to study, and to bring it forth.
And Secondly, the Truth to know, How I about the World must go;
This is the Second Riddle, you know. 24
"The last of all, To tell me what I Think; and then you shall your Pardon have,
Readily set down with pen and ink, your Lands and Livings all to save.
If you your Livings mean to hold, with all your Gallants in their Gold,
See these Riddles you readily unfold."
And then the Abbot he sought out to the cunningest Man that there might be,
How his Purpose then he might bring about, and for to set his Livings free:
But yet by no good men could he these Riddies expound in any degree,
Nor yet by University.
Then the old Abbot he a Brother had, a silly Man that kept his Sheep;
Who musing how his Brother came so sad, and how he came in Dump so deep;
Saying, "Dear Brother, tell to me how chance you look so heavily,
That none of your Friends can remend ye." 36
Then the Lord Abbot told his Brother all the Questions three, which made him sad;
He said, "Dear Brother, shall I be so bold to answer them, and make you glad?
Let me put on your Abbot's Weed, and I'll go to Court like in your stead,
And see, dear Brother, how I shall speed."
"If you these Questions readily can put out, and answer them to my Discharge;
Half of my Living that I have, no doubt, shall be thy own, to live at large."
And thither went the Shepherd then, and after him five hundred Men,
To guard him out and home again.
"Now you be very welcome!" said the King. "Indeed your Davis just come forth;
I make no doubt out to me you bring to the uttermost what I am worth."
"Yea, I'll assure your Grace," quoth he, "Worth Nine and Twenty Pence you be.
Not a Peny more, I'll warrant ye. ''
For Jesus Christ, who was the King of Kings, was sold but for one Peny more.
When Judas sold him to the Jewish Things, the Scripture bringeth forth therefore.
Then I do trust your Grace will say, You are worth no more, no manner of way,
But a Peny lesser than they did pay.
"Then touching how to go the World about: In twice twelve Hours, as you may see,
The Sun doth take its speedy Course about, so speed[il]y as it may be;
If you about the World would go, in twice Twelve Hours you may do so:
And this is the Second Kiddle, you know.
"Then last of all, to tell you what you Think; I am sure you think that it is I
Am the Lord Abbot which to you did bring these Questions so readily;
No, I am but his Brother, God wot, in field which after his sheep do trot,
For Lands and Livings I have not."
When as the Noble King had heard, his Questions he had answer'a' so,
He hearing that the Shepherd had need, a Living on him did bestow:
And his Brother likewise he did yield Half of the Livings which then he held;
Thus was he promoted from the Field.
[Pepys', in Black-letter, with two woodcuts: printed for J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passinger; Douce's, for A. Melbourne. Bate, circa 1682.]