The vintner said unto him, ‘Sirrah!
Bring me one hundred pounds to-morrow
By nine o’clock,—take them again;
So get you out of doors till then.’
He answered, ‘If this chink I bring,
I fear thou wilt do no such thing.
He said, ‘I’ll give under my hand,
A note, that I to this will stand.’
Having the note, away he goes,
And straightway went to one of those
That made him drink when moneyless,
And did the truth to him confess.
They both went to this heap of gold,
And in a bag he fairly told
A thousand pounds, ill yellow-boys,
And to the tavern went their ways.
This bag they on the table set,
Making the vintner for to fret;
He said, ‘Young man! this will not do,
For I was but in jest with you.’
So then bespoke the young man’s friend:
‘Vintner! thou mayest sure depend,
In law this note it will you cast,
And he must have his land at last.’
This made the vintner to comply,—
He fetched the deeds immediately;
He had one hundred pounds, and then
The young man got his deeds again.
At length the vintner ’gan to think
How he was fooled out of his chink;
Said, ‘When ’tis found how I came off,
My neighbours will me game and scoff.’
So to prevent their noise and clatter
The vintner he, to mend the matter,
In two days after, it doth appear,
Did cut his throat from ear to ear.
Thus he untimely left the world,
That to this young man proved a churl.
Now he who followed drunkenness,
Lives sober, and doth lands possess.