For soe he to his father hight. 45 "My sonne, when I am gonne," sayd hee, "Then thou wilt spend thy lande so broad, And thou wilt spend thy gold so free.
"But sweare me nowe upon the roode, That lonesome lodge thou'lt never spend; 50 For when all the world doth frown on thee, Thou there shalt find a faithful friend."
The heire of Linne is full of golde: "And come with me, my friends," sayd hee, "Let's drinke, and rant, and merry make, 55 And he that spares, ne'er mote he thee."
They ranted, drank, and merry made, Till all his gold it waxed thinne; And then his friendes they slunk away; They left the unthrifty heire of Linne. 60
He had never a penny left in his purse, Never a penny left but three, And one was brass, another was lead, And another it was white monèy.
"Nowe well-aday," sayd the heire of Linne, 65 "Nowe well-aday, and woe is mee, For when I was the lord of Linne, I never wanted gold nor fee.
"But many a trustye friend have I, And why shold I feel dole or care? 70 Ile borrow of them all by turnes, Soe need I not be never bare."
But one, i-wis, was not at home; Another had payd his gold away; Another call'd him thriftless loone, 75 And bade him sharpely wend his way.
"Now well-aday," sayd the heire of Linne, "Now well-aday, and woe is me; For when I had my landes so broad, On me they liv'd right merrilee. 80
"To beg my bread from door to door, I-wis, it were a brenning shame; To rob and steal it were a sinne; To worke, my limbs I cannot frame.
"Now Ile away to [the] lonesome lodge, 85 For there my father bade me wend: When all the world should frown on mee I there shold find a trusty friend."
34. i. e. earnest-money; from the French _denier à Dieu_. At this day, when application is made to the Dean and Chapter of Carlisle to accept an exchange of the tenant under one of their leases, a piece of silver is presented, by the new tenant, which is still called a God's-penny. PERCY.
Away then hyed the heire of Linne, Oer hill and holt, and moor and fenne, Untill he came to [the] lonesome lodge, That stood so lowe in a lonely glenne.
He looked up, he looked downe, 5 In hope some comfort for to winne; But bare and lothly were the walles; "Here's sorry cheare," quo' the heire of Linne.