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THE HEIR OF LINNE. 69
" Now Christs curse on my head," he sayd, w " But I did lose by that bargaine.
"And here I proffer thee, heire of Linne, Before these lords so faire and free,
Thou shalt have it backe again better cheape By a hundred markes than I had it of thee."
" I drawe you to record, lords," he said, 100
"With that he cast him a gods-pennie:
" Now by my fay/' sayd the heire of Linne, " And here, good John, is thy money."
And he pull'd forth three bagges of gold, 105 And layd them down upon the bord ;
All woe begone was John o' the Scales, Soe shent he cold say never a word.
He told him forth the good red gold.
He told it forth [with] mickle dinne. no
" The gold is thine, the land is mine,
And now Ime againe the lord of Linne."
Sayes, " Have thou here, thou good fellowe,
Forty pence thou didst lend mee: Now I am againe the lord of Linne, 115
And forty pounds I will give thee.
" lie make thee keeper of my forrest, Both of the wild deere and the tame;