A Choice Pennyworth of Wit.
PART. I.
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HERE is a pennyworth of wit,
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For those that ever went astray,
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If warning they will take by it,
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'Twill do them good another day.
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It is a touchstone of true love,
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Betwixt a harlot and a wife,
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The formers does destructive prove,
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The latter yields a joy to life.
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As in this song you may behold,
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Set forth by Mr. William Lane,
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A wealthy merchant brave and bold,
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Who did a harlot long maintain.
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Altho' a virtuous wife he had,
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Likewise a youthful daughter dear,
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Which might have made his heart full glad,
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Yet them he seldom would come near.
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The traffick which he traded for,
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On the tempesteous ocean wide,
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His harlot all he brought to her,
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But nothing to his virtuous bride.
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The finest silks that could be bought,
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Nay, jewels, rubies, diamond rings,
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He to his wanton harlot brought,
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With many other costly thing.
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She still receiv'd him with a smile,
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When he came from the raging sea,
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And said, with words as sweet as oil,
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My dearest come and take thy ease.
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To my soft bed and linen fine,
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Thou art right welcome love said she,
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Both I and all that e'er his mine,
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Shall still at thy devotion be.
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He brought two hundred pounds in gold,
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And after that three hundred more,
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With chains and jewels manifold,
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And bid her lay them up in store.
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Ay, that I will thou need'st not fear,
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And so embrac'd him with a kiss,
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Then took the wealth, and said my dear,
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I'll take special care of this.
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Then did they banquet many days,
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Feasting on delicious fare,
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Thus by her false deluding way,
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She drew him into a fatal snare.
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When he had lived some time on shore,
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He must go to the seas again;
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With traffick to encrease his store,
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The wanton harlot to maintain.
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To whom he said, my joy and dear,
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With me what venture will you send,
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A good return you need not fear,
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I'll be thy factor and thy friend.
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In goods my dear, I'll send above,
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Ten pounds which you shall take abroad,
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I know that unto me, my dear,
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A treble gain it shall afford.
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This said, next to his wife he goes,
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And ask'd her in a scornful wise,
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What venture she would then propose,
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To send with him for merchandize.
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I'll send a penny love by thee,
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Be sure take great care of it:
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When you are in foreign parts said she,
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Pray buy a pennyworth of wit.
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She laid the penny in his hand,
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And said I pray you don't forget,
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When you are in another land,
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Pray buy a pennyworth of wit.
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He put the penny up secure,
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And said I'll take especial care,
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To lay it out you may be sure,
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So to his mistress he did repair.
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And told her what he was to buy,
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At which she laugh'd his wife to scorn;
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On board he went immediately,
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And went to sea that very morn.
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PART. II.
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NOW they're gone with merry hearts,
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The merchant and his jovial crew,
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From port to port in foreign parts,
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To trade as they were wont to do.
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At length when he had well bestow'd,
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The cargo which was outward bound,
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He did his trading vessels load,
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With richest treasure which he found.
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As he his merchandize still sent,
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They turn'd to gems and golden oar,
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Which crown'd his labour with content,
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He never was so rich before.
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The wanton harlots venture then,
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Did turn to great account likewise;
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For every pound she should have ten,
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Such was her lucky merchandize.
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For joy of this the merchant he said,
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One merry bout my lads you shall have;
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A splendid supper I'll provide,
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Of all the dainties you can crave.
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Before we set to sea again,
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This said they to a tavern went,
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There they did drink and feast amain,
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Till many crowns and pounds were spent.
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The merchant then with laughing mov'd,
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Said he for wit I ne'er had sought;
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My harlot's venture is improv'd,
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But of my my wife's I ne'er thought.
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One single penny and no more,
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She has a venture sent by me;
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I was to lay it out therefore,
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In what you think a rarity.
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She bid me use my rarest skill,
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To buy a pennyworth of wit:
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But I have kept this penny still,
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And ne'er so much as thought of it.
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Where shall I go to lay it out,
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True wit is hard and scarce to find,
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But come my lads let's drink about,
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My wife's small ventures I'll not mind.
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There is a proverb often'd us'd,
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Wit's never good till bought full dear;
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Wherefore, I may well be excus'd,
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There's little for a penny here.
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An aged father sitting by,
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Whose venerable locks were grey;
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Strait made the merchant this reply,
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Hear me a word or two I pray.
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The hariot in prosperity,
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She will embrace thee for thy gold,
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But when in want and poverty,
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You'll nought from her but frowns behold.
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And ready to betray thy life,
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When wretched poor and very low,
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But thy true hearted faithful wife,
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Will stand by thee in wealth or woe.
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If thou wilt prove the truth of this,
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Strip off thy gaudy rich array,
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And to return to thy lewd miss,
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Declare that thou was cast away.
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Thy riches buried in the main,
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Besides as thou passed through the wood,
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One of your servants you have slain,
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For which your life in danger stood.
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Beseech her for to shelter thee,
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Declare on her you do depend,
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And then alas! full well you'll see,
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How far she'll prove thy faithful friend.
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Then if she frown, go to thy wife,
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Tell her this melancholly theme,
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Who labours most to save thy life,
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Let her be most in thy esteem.
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Father, the merchant then reply'd,
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You must this single penny take;
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And when I have past the occean wide,
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A proof of this mean to make.
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And loving friends for ought I know,
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I may this single penny prize;
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It may be the best I do bestow,
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In all my wealthy merchandize.
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Taking his leave away he went,
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And also his brave hearts of gold,
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To whom he said I'll prove the same,
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When I my native Land behold.
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PART. III.
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WITH full spread sails to sea they went,
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Neptune the golden cargo bore,
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Thro' roaring waves, to their content,
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At length they reach'd the British shore.
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The merchant put on poor array,
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The very worst of ragged cloaths,
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And then without the least delay,
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He to his wanton harlot goes.
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When she beheld him in distress,
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She cry'd what is the matter now;
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He said I'm poor and pennyless,
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With that he made a courteous bow.
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Crying, no man was e'er so crost,
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As I have been, Sweetheart's delight,
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My ship and cargo all is lost,
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Without thy help I[']m ruin'd quite.
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My loss is great, yet that's not all,
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One of my servants I have slain,
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As we both did at variance fall,
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Some shelter let me here obtain.
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I dare not go a near my wife,
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Whom I have wrong'd for many years,
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Into thy hands I put my life,
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Take pity on my melting tears.
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Ye bloody villian, she reply'd,
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Don't in the least on me depend!
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Begone, or as I live, she reply'd,
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I for an officer will send.
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I'll give you neither bread nor drink,
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Nor any shelter shall you have,
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Of nasty lousy rags you stink,
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Be gone you base pernicious knave.
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Don't think that I'll your counsel keep,
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Or harbour such a one as you,
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He turn'd aside and seem'd to weep,
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And bid the wanton jilt adieu,
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Then to his loving wife he came,
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Both poor and naked in distress;
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He told her all the very same.
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Yet she receiv'd him ne'er the less.
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My dear she cry'd since it is so,
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Take comfort in thy loving wife,
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All that I have shall freely go,
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To gain a pardon for thy life.
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I'll lodge thee in a place secure,
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Where I will daily nourish thee;
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Believe me love, thou may'st be sure,
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To find a faithful friend in me.
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When he this perfect proof had made,
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Which of the two did love him best,
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Unto his virtuous wife he said,
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My jewel set thy heart at rest.
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Believe no servant I have slain,
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Nor have I suffer'd any loss,
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Enough I have us to maintain,
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The ocean seas I'll no more cross.
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My laden ships lie near the shore,
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With gold and jewels richly fraught,
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So much I never had before,
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The pennyworth of wit I've bought.
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Once more he to his harlots goes,
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With fourteen sailors brave and bold,
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All cloath'd in new and costly cloaths,
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Of silks and rich embroider'd gold.
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This mis, when she the pomp beheld,
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Did offer him a kind embrace;
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But he with wrath and anger fill'd,
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Did strait upraid her to her face.
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But she with smiles these words express'd
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My dear, I've faithful love for thee,
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Whate'er I said was but in jest,
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Why did'st thou go so soon away.
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time to go, for as I am told,
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You have another love in store,
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Whom you have furnish'd with my gold,
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And jewels which I brought on shore.
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false she cry'd, I have them all,
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With that the merchant soon reply'd,
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Lay them before me, then I shall,
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Soon be convinc'd and satisfy'd:
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Then up she run and fetch'd them down
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His jewels. gold, and rubies bright:
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He seiz'd them all, then with a frown,
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He bid the wanton jilt goodnight.
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When he had took the golden purse,
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And swept up every precious stone!
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She cry'd what will you rob me thus?
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Yes, that I will of what's my own.
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You wanted to betray my life,
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But thanks to god there's no such fear;
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The jewels shall adorn my wife,
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Henceforth thy house I'll ne'er come near.
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Home he return'd to his sweet wife,
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And told her all that he had done:
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E'er since they lived a happy life,
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And he'll no more to harlots run.
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Thus he the wanton harlot bit,
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Who long had his destruction sought!
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This is a pennyworth of wit,
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The best that ever merchant bought.
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