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, but[106] if I amend:
For here I will make my vow,
This reade[107] 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 speere[109] 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.