That gold is thine, the land is mine,

The heire of Linne I wilbee.’

7

‘Heere’s gold inoughe,’ saithe the heire of Linne,

‘Both for me and my company:’

He drunke the wine that was soe cleere,

And with euery man he made merry.

8

With-in three quarters of a yeere

His gold and fee it waxed thinne,