|
Away then hied the heire of Linne
O’er hill and holt,1
and moor and fenne,
Untill he came to lonesome lodge,
That stood so lowe in a lonely glenne.
|
And
John himself
sate at the bord-head,
Because now lord of Linne was hee.
"I pray thee", he said, "good
John
o’ the Scales,
One forty
pence for to lend mee."
|
|
He looked up, he looked downe,
In hope some comfort for
to winne,
But bare and lothly were the walls:
Here’s sorry cheare, quo’ the heire of Linne
|
"Away, away thou thriftless loone,
Away, away, this may
not bee:
For
Christs
curse on my head, he sayd,
If ever I trust thee one
pennie."
|
|
The little windowe dim and darke
Was hung with ivy, brere2
and yewe;
No shimmering sunn here ever shone;
No
halesome breeze here ever blew.
|
Then bespake the heire of Linne,
To
John o’ the Scales wife then spake he:
"Madame,
some almes on me bestowe,
I pray for sweet saint
Charitie."
|
|
No chair, ne table he mote spye,
No cheerful hearth, ne
welcome bed,
Nought save a rope with renning3 noose,
That
dangling hung up o’er his head.
|
"Away, away thou thriftless loone,
I swear thou gettest no
almes of mee;
For if we shold hang any losel9
here,
The
first we wold begin with thee."
|
|
And over it in broad letters,
These
words were written so plain to see:
“Ah! graceless
wretch, hast spent thine all,
And brought thyselfe to
penurie?
|
Then bespake a good fellowe,
Which sat at
John
o’ the Scales his bord;
Sayd,
"Turn
againe, thou heire of Linne,
Some time thou wast a well
good lord:
|
|
"All this my boding mind misgave,
I therefore left this
trusty friend:
Let it now sheeld thy foule disgrace,
And all thy shame and sorrows end.”
|
"Some time a good fellow thou hast been,
And sparedst not
thy gold and fee;
Therefore
Ile lend thee forty pence,
And other forty if need bee.
|
|
Sorely shent wi’ this rebuke,
Sorely shent was the heire
of Linne;
His heart, I
wis,
was near to brast4
With guilt and sorrowe, shame and sinne.
|
"And ever, I pray thee,
John
o’ the Scales,
To let
him sit in thy companie:
For well I wot thou hadst his land,
And a good bargain it was to thee."
|
|
Never a word spake the heire of Linne,
Never a word he
spake but three:
“This is a trusty friend indeed,
And
is right welcome unto mee.”
|
Up then spake him
John
o’ the Scales,
All wood he answer’d him againe:
"Now
Christs curse on my head", he sayd,
"But I did lose by that bargaine.
|
|
Then round his necke the cord he drewe,
And sprang aloft with his bodie:
When lo! the ceiling
burst in twaine,
And to the ground came tumbling hee.
|
"And here I proffer thee, heire of Linne,
Before these lords so
faire and free,
Thou
shalt have it backe again better cheape,
By a hundred markes, than I had it of thee.
|
|
Astonyed lay the heire of Linne,
Ne
knewe if he were live or dead;
At length he looked and
saw a bille,5
And in it a key of gold so redd.
|
"I drawe you to record, lords", he said.
With that he
cast him a gods pennie.
"Now by my fay", sayd the heire
of Linne,
"And here, good
John,
is thy money."
|
|
He took the bill and lookt it on,
Strait good comfort found he there:
Itt told him of a
hole in the wall,
In which there stood three chests
in-fere.6
|
And he pull’d forth three bagges of gold,
And layd them down
upon the bord:
All woe begone was
John
o’ the Scales,
Soe shent he cold say never a word.
|
|
Two
were full of the beaten golde,
The
third was full of white money,
And over them in broad
letters
These
words were written so plaine to see.
|
He told him forth the good red gold,
He told it forth
mickle
dinne.10
"The
gold is thine, the land is mine,
And now Ime againe the lord of Linne." |
|
“Once more, my sonne, I sette thee clere;
Amend thy life
and follies past;
For but thou amend thee of thy life,
That rope must be thy end at last.”
|
Sayes, "Haye thou here, thou good fellowe,
Forty pence
thou didst lend mee:
Now I am againe the lord of Linne,
And forty pounds I will give thee.
|
|
"And let it bee", sayd the heire of Linne;
"And let it be,
but if I amend:
For here I will make mine avow,
This reade7
shall guide me to the end."
|
"Ile make the[e] keeper of my forest,
Both of the wild deere and the tame;
For but I reward thy
bounteous heart,
I
wis,
good fellowe, I were to blame." |
|
Away then went with a merry cheare;
Away then went the
heire of Linne;
I
wis,
he neither ceas’d ne blanne[?],
Till John o' the Scales
house he did winne.
|
"Now welladay!" sayth
Joan o’ the Scales:
"Now welladay! and
woe is my life!
Yesterday I was lady of Linne,
Now Ime
but
John o’ the
Scales his wife." |
|
And when he came to
John
o’ the Scales,
Upp at the speere8
then looked hee;
There
sate three lords upon a rowe,
Were drinking of the wine
so free.
|
"Now fare thee well", sayd the heire of Linne;
"Farewell now,
John o’ the Scales", said hee:
"Christs curse light on me, if ever again
I bring my lands in jeopardy."
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