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. Away, away, thou thriftless loone; Away, away, this may not be: For a curse upon my head he said, If ever I trust thee one pennìe. Then bespake the heir of Linne, To John o' the Scales' wife then spake he: Madame, some alms on me bestow, I pray for sweet saint Charitìe. Away, away, thou thriftless loone, I swear thou gettest no alms of me; For if we shold hang any losel here, The first we would begin with thee. Then bespake a good fellòwe, Which sat at John o' the Scales his bord; Sayd, Turn again, thou heir of Linne; Some time thou wast a well good Lord: Some time a good fellow thou hast been, And sparedst not thy gold and fee: Therefore I'll lend thee forty pence, And other forty if need be. And ever, I pray thee, John o' the Scales, To let him sit in thy companie: For well I wot thou hadst his land, And a good bargain it was to thee. Up then spake him John o' the Scales, All hot he answered him againe: Now a curse upon my head, he said, But I did lose by that bargàine. And here I proffer thee, heir of Linne, Before these lords so fair and free, Thou shalt have it back again better cheap, By a hundred markes, than I had it of thee. I draw you to record, lords, he said. With that he cast him a god's pennie: Now by my fay, sayd the heir of Linne, And here, good John, is thy monèy.