“For . . . I . . . ” he said,
“My land, take it unto thee;
I draw you to record, my lords all;”
With that he cast him a Gods pennie.
He told him the gold upon the bord,
It wanted never a bare penny.
“That gold is thine, the land is mine,
The heire of Lynne I will bee.”
“Heeres gold enough,” saithe the heire of Lynne,
“Both for me and my company.”
He drunke the wine that was so cleere,
And with every man he made merry.
Within three quarters of a yeare
His gold and fee it waxed thinne,
His merry men were from him gone,
And left himselfe all alone.
He had never a penny left in his purse,
Never a penny but three,
And one was brasse and another was lead
And another was white mony.
“Now well-a-day!” said the heire of Lynne,
“Now well-a-day, and woe is mee!
For when I was the Lord of Lynne,
I neither wanted gold nor fee;
“For I have sold my lands so broad,
And have not left me one penny!
I must go now and take some read
Unto Edenborrow and beg my bread.”
He had not beene in Edenborrow
Nor three quarters of a yeare,
But some did give him and some said nay,
And some bid “to the deele gang yee!
“For if we should hang some land selfeer,
The first we would begin with thee.”
“Now well-a-day!” said the heire of Lynne,
“Now well-a-day, and woe is mee!
“For now I have sold my lands so broad
That merry man is irke with mee;
But when that I was the Lord of Lynne
Then on my land I lived merrily;