MONK

Is this the King that never loved a Friar? Is this the man that does contemn the Pope? Is this the man that robbed the holy Church, And yet will fly unto a Friory? Is this the King that aims at Abbeys lands? Is this the man whom all the world abhors, And yet will fly unto a Friorie? Accursed be Swinstead Abbey, Abbot, Friars, Monks, Nuns, and Clark's, and all that dwells therein, If wicked John escape alive away. Now if that thou wilt look to merit heaven, And be canonized for a holy Saint: To please the world with a deserving work, Be thou the man to set thy country free, And murder him that seeks to murder thee. What if I say to strangle him in his sleep? I'll set a dudgeon dagger at his heart, And with a mallet knock him on the head. I'll poison him, and it shall never be known, And then shall I be chiefest of my house. I murder you! God shield from such a thought. I will not hurt your Lordship good my Lord: but if you please, I will impart a thing that shall be benefi ciall to us all. You know my Lord, the King is in our house. You know likewise the King abhors a Friar. And he that loves not a Friar is our enemy. Then the King is our enemy. Wassell my Liege, and as a poor Monk may say, welcome to Swinstead. As much health to your Highness as to mine own heart. The merriest draught that ever was drunk in England. Am I not too bold with your Highness? If the inward of a toad be a compound of any proof: why so it works. My L.I cry your Lordship mercy, I saw you not. Why then should we not kill our enemy, and the king being our enemy, why then should we not kill the K. Who dare? why I my Lord dare do the deed, I'll free my Country and the Church from foes, And merit heaven by killing of a King. God and S. Francis prosper my attempt, For now my Lord I go about my work.