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THE HEIR OP LIKNE. |
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For Christs curse on my head," he sayd, " If ever I trust thee one pennie."
Then bespake the heire of Linne,
To John o' the Scales wife then spake he :
" Madame, some almes on me bestowe, ra
I pray for sweet saint Charitie."
" Away, away, thou thriftless loone, I sweare thou gettest no almes of mee;
For if we should hang any losel heere, The first we wold begin with thee." so
Then bespake a good fellowe,
Which sat at John o' the Scales his bord; Sayd, " Turn againe, thou heir of Linne;
Some time thou wast a well good lord.
" Some time a good fellow thou hast been, as And sparedst not thy gold and fee;
Therefore lie lend thee forty pence, And other forty if need bee.
" And ever I pray thee, John o' the Scales, To let him sit in thy companie: »o
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 answer'd him againe: |
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