The Heir of Linne
Part the First
Lithe98 and listen, gentlemen,
To sing a song I will begin:
It is of a lord of fair Scotland,
Which was the unthrifty heir of Linne.
His father was a right good lord,
His mother a lady of high degree;
But they, alas! were dead, him fro’,
And he lov’d keeping company.
To spend the day with merry cheer,
To drink and revel every night,
To card and dice from eve to morn,
It was, I ween, his heart’s delight.
To ride, to run, to rant, to roar,
To alway spend and never spare,
I know, an’ it were the king himself,
Of gold and fee he might be bare.
So fares the unthrifty lord of Linne
Till all his gold is gone and spent;
And he maun sell his lands so broad,
His house, and lands, and all his rent.
His father had a keen stewàrd,
And John o’ the Scales was called he:
But John is become a gentleman,
And John has got both gold and fee.
Says, Welcome, welcome, lord of Linne,
Let nought disturb thy merry cheer;
If thou wilt sell thy lands so broad,
Good store of gold I’ll give thee here.
My gold is gone, my money is spent;
My land now take it unto thee:
Give me the gold, good John o’ the Scales,
And thine for aye my land shall be.
Then John he did him to record draw,
And John he cast him a gods-pennie;99
But for every pound that John agreed,
The land, I wis, was well worth three.
He told him the gold upon the board,
He was right glad his land to win;
The gold is thine, the land is mine,
And now I’ll be the lord of Linne.
Thus he hath sold his land so broad,
Both hill and holt,100 and moor and fen,
All but a poor and lonesome lodge,
That stood far off in a lonely glen.
For so he to his father hight,101
My son, when I am gone, said he,
Then thou wilt spend thy land so broad,
And thou wilt spend thy gold so free:
But swear me now upon the cross,
That lonesome lodge thou’lt never spend;
For when all the world doth frown on thee,
Thou there shalt find a faithful friend.
The heir of Linne is full of gold:
And come with me, my friends, said he,
Let’s drink, and rant, and merry make,
And he that spares, ne’er mote he thee.102
They ranted, drank, and merry made,
Till all his gold it waxed thin;
And then his friends they slunk away;
They left the unthrifty heir of Linne.
He had never a penny left in his purse,
Never a penny left but three,
And one was brass, another was lead,
And another it was white monèy.
Now well-a-day, said the heir of Linne,
Now well-a-day, and woe is me,
For when I was the lord of Linne,
I never wanted gold nor fee.
But many a trusty friend have I,
And why should I feel grief or care?
I’ll borrow of them all by turns,
So need I not be never bare.
But one, I wis, was not at home;
Another had paid his gold away;
Another called him thriftless loon,
And bade him sharply wend his way.
Now well-a-day, said the heir of Linne,
Now well-a-day, and woe is me;
For when I had my lands so broad,
On me they liv’d right merrily.
To beg my bread from door to door
I wis, it were a burning shame:
To rob and steal it were a sin:
To work my limbs I cannot frame.
Now I’ll away to lonesome lodge,
For there my father bade me wend;
When all the world should frown on me,
I there should find a trusty friend.
Part the Second
Away then hied the heir of Linne
O’er hill and holt, and moor and fen,
Until he came to lonesome lodge,
That stood so low in a lonely glen.
He looked up, he looked down,
In hope some comfort for to win:
But bare and loathly were the walls.
Here’s sorry cheer, quo’ the heir of Linne.
The little window dim and dark
Was hung with ivy, brier, and yew;
No shimmering sun here ever shone;
No wholesome breeze here ever blew.
No chair nor table he mote spy,
No cheerful hearth, no welcome bed,
Nought save a rope with running noose
That dangling hung up o’er his head.
And over it in broad lettèrs,
These words were written plain to see:
“Ah! graceless wretch, hast spent thine all,
And brought thyself to penury?
“All this my boding mind misgave,
I therefore left this trusty friend:
Let it now shield thy foul disgrace,
And all thy shame and sorrows end.”
Sorely shent103 wi’ this rebuke,
Sorely shent was the heir of Linne;
His heart, I wis, was near to burst
With guilt and sorrow, shame and sin.
Never a word spake the heir of Linne,
Never a word he spake but three:
This is a trusty friend indeed,
And is right welcome unto me.
Then round his neck the cord he drew,
And sprang aloft with his body:
When lo! the ceiling burst in twain,
And to the ground came tumbling he.
Astonished lay the heir of Linne,
Nor knew if he were live or dead:
At length he looked, and saw a bill,104
And in it a key of gold so red.
He took the bill, and looked it on,
Straight good comfort found he there:
It told him of a hole in the wall,
In which there stood three chests in-fere.105
Two were full of the beaten gold,
The third was full of white monèy;
And over them in broad lettèrs
These words were written so plain to see:
“Once more, my son, I set thee clear;
Amend thy life and follies past;
For but thou amend thee of thy life,
That rope must be thy end at last.”
And let it be, said the heir of Linne;
And let it be, but106 if I amend:
For here I will make my vow,
This reade107 shall guide me to the end.
Away then went with a merry cheer,
Away then went the heir of Linne;
I wis, he neither ceas’d nor blanne,108
Till John o’ the Scales’ house he did win.
And when he came to John o’ the Scales,
Up at the speere109 then looked he;
There sat three lords upon a row,
Were drinking of the wine so free.
And John himself sat at the board-head,
Because now lord of Linne was he.
I pray thee, he said, good John o’ the Scales,
One forty pence, for to lend me.
Away, away, thou thriftless loon;
Away, away, this may not be;
For Christ’s curse on my head, he said,
If ever I trust thee one pennie.
Then bespake the heir of Linne,
To John o’ the Scales’ wife then spake he:
Madame, some alms on me bestow,
I pray for sweet saint Charity.
Away, away, thou thriftless loon,
I swear thou gettest no alms of me;
For if we should hang any losel110 here,
The first we would begin with thee.
Then bespake a good fellòw,
Which sat at John o’ the Scales his board;
Said, Turn again, thou heir of Linne;
Some time thou wast a well good lord:
Some time a good fellow thou hast been,
And sparedst not thy gold and fee;
Therefore I’ll lend thee forty pence,
And other forty if need be.
And ever, I pray thee, John o’ the Scales,
To let him sit in thy company:
For well I wot thou hadst his land,
And a good bargain it was to thee.
Up then spake him John o’ the Scales,
All wood111 he answer’d him again:
Now Christ’s curse on my head, he said,
But I did lose by that bargàin.
And here I proffer thee, heir of Linne,
Before these lords so fair and free,
Thou shalt have it back again better cheap,
By a hundred marks, than I had it of thee.
I draw you to record, lords, he said.
With that he cast him a gods-pennie:
Now by my fay, said the heir of Linne,
And here, good John, is thy monèy.
And he pull’d forth three bags of gold,
And laid them down upon the board:
All woe begone was John o’ the Scales,
So shent112 he could say never a word.
He told him forth the good red gold,
He told it forth with mickle din.
The gold is thine, the land is mine,
And now again I’m the lord of Linne.
Says, Have thou here, thou good fellòw,
Forty pence thou didst lend me:
Now I am again the lord of Linne,
And forty pounds I will give thee.
I’ll make thee keeper of my forest,
Both of the wild deer and the tame;
For but I reward thy bounteous heart,
I wis, good fellow, I were to blame.
Now well-a-day! saith Joan o’ the Scales:
Now well-a-day! and woe is my life!
Yesterday I was lady of Linne,
Now I’m but John o’ the Scales his wife.
Now fare thee well, said the heir of Linne;
Farewell now, John o’ the Scales, said he:
Christ’s curse light on me, if ever again
I bring my lands in jeopardy.
Footnotes
98 Attend.
99 Earnest-money.
100 Wood.
101 Promised.
102 May he thrive.
103 Disgraced.
104 Writing.
105 Together.
106 Unless.
107 Counsel.
108 Lingered.
109 Hole in the window.
110 Worthless fellow.
111 Wild.
112 Disgraced.