To drink the wine that was so clear
With all he would mak’ merrye;
And then bespake him John o’ the Scales,
To the heir of Linne said he:
V
‘How doest thou, thou Lord of Linne
Doest want or gold or fee?
Wilt thou not sell thy lands so broad
To such a good fellow as me?’
VI
He told the gold upon the board,
Wanted never a bare pennye:
‘The gold is thine, the land is mine,
The heir of Linne I will be.’
VII
‘Here’s gold enow,’ saith the heir of Linne,
‘For me and my companye.’
He drank the wine that was so clear,
And with all he made merrye.
VIII
Within three quarters of a year
His gold it waxèd thin;
His merry men were from him gone,
Bade him, ‘To the de’il ye’se gang!’