He had not beene in Edenborrow
Nor three quarters of a yeare,
But some did give him and some said nay,
And some bid “to the deele gang yee!

“For if we should hang some land selfeer,
The first we would begin with thee.” 
“Now well-a-day!” said the heire of Lynne,
“Now well-a-day, and woe is mee!

“For now I have sold my lands so broad
That merry man is irke with mee;
But when that I was the Lord of Lynne
Then on my land I lived merrily;

“And now I have sold my land so broade
That I have not left me one pennye! 
God be with my father!” he said,
“On his land he lived merrily.”

Still in a study there as he stood,
He unbethought him of a bill,
He unbethought him of a bill
Which his father had left with him.

Bade him he should never on it looke
Till he was in extreame neede,
“And by my faith,” said the heire of Lynne,
“Then now I had never more neede.”

He tooke the bill and looked it on,
Good comfort that he found there;
It told him of a castle wall
Where there stood three chests in feare: 

Two were full of the beaten gold,
The third was full of white money. 
He turned then downe his bags of bread
And filled them full of gold so red.

Then he did never cease nor blinne
Till John of the Scales house he did winne. 
When that he came John of the Scales,
Up at the speere he looked then;

There sate three lords upon a rowe,
And John o’ the Scales sate at the bord’s head,
And John o’ the Scales sate at the bord’s head
Because he was the lord of Lynne.

And then bespake the heire of Lynne
To John o’ the Scales wife thus sayd hee,
Sayd “Dame, wilt thou not trust me one shott
That I may sit downe in this company?”

“Now Christ’s curse on my head,” she said,
“If I do trust thee one pennye,”
Then bespake a good fellowe,
Which sate by John o’ the Scales his knee,

Said “have thou here, thou heire of Lynne,
Forty-pence I will lend thee,—­
Some time a good fellow thou hast beene
And other forty if it need bee.”

They drunken wine that was so cleere,
And every man they made merry,
And then bespake him John o’ the Scales
Unto the Lord of Lynne said hee;

Said “how doest thou heire of Lynne,
Since I did buy thy lands of thee? 
I will sell it to thee twenty better cheepe,
Nor ever did I buy it of thee.”

“I draw you to recorde, lords all:” 
With that he cast him god’s penny;
Then he tooke to his bags of bread,
And they were full of the gold so red.

He told him the gold then over the borde
It wanted never a broad pennye;
“That gold is thine, the land is mine,
And the heire of Lynne againe I will bee.”

“Now well-a-day!” said John o’ the Scales’ wife,
“Well-a-day, and woe is me! 
Yesterday I was the lady of Lynne,
And now I am but John o’ the Scales wife!”