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 bodìe:
When lo! the ceiling burst in twaine,
And to the ground came tumbling he.
Astonished lay the heir of Linne, Nor knewe if he were live or dead: At length he looked, and saw a bill, And in it a key of gold so redd.
He took the bill, and lookt it on, Strait good comfort found he there: It told him of a hole in the wall, In which there stood three chests in-fere.
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, but if I amend: For here I will make mine avow, This read 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 stayed, Till John o' the Scales' house he did win.
And when he came to John o' the Scales, Up at the window then looked he: There sate three lords upon a row, Were drinking of the wine so free.
And John himself sate at the bord-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.