( 3 )
'My gold is gone, my money’s spent;
'my lands now take them unto thee;
'Give me the gold good John o’ th' Scales,
'and thine for aye my lands shall be.'
Then John did to him record draw,
and John gave him a god’s pennie,
For every pound that John agreed,
the land, I’m sure, was well worth three.
John told the gold upon the board,
He was right glad his lands to win:
'The land is mine, the gold is thine,
'and now I’ll be the Lord o’ Linne.'
Thus he hath sold his lands sae broad ,
baith hill and holt, and muir and fen
All but a poor and lonesome lodge,
that stood far aff into a glen.
For sae he to his father high—
‘ My son, when I am gone,’ said he,
' Then thou wilt spend thy land sae broad
' and thou wilt spend thy gold so free:
‘ But swear me now upon the rude,
‘ that lonesome lodge thoult never spend;
When all the world doth frown on thee,
‘ thou there shalt find a faithful friend.’
The Heir of Linne is full of gold:
'Come, come with me, my friends,’ said he
' Let’s drink, and rant, and merry make,
' and he that spares, ne’er have may he.
They ranted, drank, and merry made,
till all his gold it waxed thin ;
And then his friends they slunk away,
and left the thriftless Heir of Linne.
