"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; And then his friends they slunk away;

They left the unthrifty heir of Linne.

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 monéy.

"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,
And why should I feel dole or care?
I'll borrow of them all by turns,
So need I not be never bare."

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,
I wis, it were a burning shame;
To rob and steal it were a sin;
To work, my limbs I cannot frame.

"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.

"O ye are welcome, rich merchants, Good saylors, welcome unto me: They swore by the rood, they were saylors good,

But rich merchants they could not

be.

"To France nor Flanders dare we pass,

Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare, And all for a robber that lyes on the

seas,

Who robs us of our merchant ware."

King Henry frowned, and turned him round,

And swore by the Lord that was mickle of might,

"I thought he had not been in the world,

Durst have wrought England such unright."

The merchants sighed and said, "Alas!"

And thus they did their answer

frame;

"He is a proud Scot that robs on the seas,

And Sir Andrew Barton is his name."

The king looked over his left shoulder,

And an angry look then looked he; "Have I never a lord in all my realm

Will fetch yond traitor unto me?" "Yea, that dare I," Lord Charles Howard says;

"Yea, that dare I with heart and hand;

If it please your grace to give me leave,

Myself will be the only man."

"Thou art but young," the king replied,

"Yond Scot hath numbered many a year:"

"Trust me, my liege, I'll make him quail,

Or before my prince I'll never appear.'

"Then bowmen and gunners thou shalt have,

And chuse them over my realm so

free:

Besides mariners and good sea-boys To guide the great ship on the sea."