His father was a right good lord,
His mother a lady of high degree;
But they, alas! were dead him froe,
And he lov'd keeping companie.

To spend the day with merry cheer,
To drink and revell every night,
To card and dice from eve to morn,
It was, I ween, his heart's delight.

To ride, to run, to rant, to roar,
To alway spend and never spare,
I wott, an' it were the king himself,
Of gold and fee he mote be bare.

So fares the unthrifty lord of Linne,
Till all his gold is gone and spent:
And he maun sell his landes so broad,
His house, and landes, and all his rent.

Then bespake a good fellówe, Which sat at John o' the Scales his bord;

Said, "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 wood he answered him againe:
"Now Christ's curse on my head"
he said,

"But I did lose by that bargáine.

And here I proffer thee, heir of Linne,

Before these lords so faire and free, Thou shalt have it backe again bet

ter cheape

By a hundred markes than I had it of thee."