There he drew out a fair broad arrow, He prayed the people that was there, That they would still stand, "For he that shooteth for such a wager, Behoveth a steadfast hand." Much people prayed for Cloudeslé, There was many a weeping eye. Thus Cloudeslé cleft the apple in two That many a man might see; "Over-gods forbode," then said the king, "That thou should shoot at me! "I give thee eighteen pence a day, ANON. THE HEIR OF LINNE. PART THE FIRST. LITHE and listen, gentlemen, His father was a right good lord, To spend the day with merry cheer, To ride, to run, to rant, to roar, So fares the unthrifty lord of Linne, "Let's drink, and rant, and merry make, And he that spares, ne'er mote be thee." They ranted, drank, and merry made, Till all his gold it waxèd thin; away; They left the unthrifty heir of Linne. He had never a penny left in his purse, Never a penny left but three, "Now well-a-day " said the heir of Linne, "Now well-a-day, and woe is me, For when I was the lord of Linne, I never wanted gold nor fee. "But many a trusty friend have I, But one I wis, was not at home; Another had paid his gold away; Another called him thriftless loon, And bade him sharply wend his way. "Now_well-a-day," said the heir of Linne, "Now well-a-day, and woe is me; For when I had my landes so broad, On me they lived right merrily. "To beg my bread from door to door, "Now I'll away to the lonesome lodge, For there my father bade me wend: When all the world should frown on me I there should find a trusty friend." PART THE SECOND. Away then hied the heir of Linne, O'er hill and holt, and moor and fen, Until he came to the lonesome lodge, That stood so low in a lonely glen. He looked up, he looked down, In hope some comfort for to win; But bare and lothly were the walls; "Here's sorry cheer," quo' the heir of Linne. The little window, dim and dark, Was hung with ivy, brere and yew; No shimmering sun here ever shone, No halesome breeze here ever blew. No chair, ne table he mote spy, That dangling hung up o'er his head. And over it in broad letters to see: "Ah! gracelesse wretch, hast spent thine all, And brought thyself to penurie? "All this my boding mind misgave, I therefore left this trusty friend: Let it now shield thy foul disgrace, And all thy shame and sorrows end." Sorely shent wi' this rebuke, Never a word spake the heir of Liune, Never a word he spake but three: Then round his neck the cord he drew, And sprang aloft with his bodie, Astonyed lay the heir of Linne, He took the bill, and lookt it on, Straight good comfort found he there: It told him of a hole in the wall, fere. |