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There is a proverb often us’d,
wit’s ne’er good till bought too dear,
Where I right well may be excus’d,
there’s little for a penny here.
An aged Father ſitting by
whoſe venerable looks were gray,
Straight made the merchant this reply,
hear me a word or two I pray.
Thy Harlot in proſperity,
the will embrace thee for chy gold,
But if in want and miſery,
you’ll nought but frowns from her behold.
And ready to betray thy life,
when wretched, naked, poor and low,
But thy true-hearted, faithful Wife,
will ſtand by thee in well or woe.
If thou wilt prove the truth of this,
ſtrip off thy gaudy rich array,
And ſo return to thy proud Miſs,
declare that thou was caſt away.
Thy riches buried in the main,
beſides as you paſs’d through a wood,
One of your ſervants you had ſlain,
for which your life in danger ſtood,
Beſeech her for to ſhelter thee,
declare on her you do depend:
And then, alas! full ſoon you’ll ſee,
how far ſhe’d prove a faithful friend.
Then if ſhe frowns, go to thy Wife;
tell her this melancholy thing,
Who Jabours moſt to ſave thy life,
let her be moſt in thy eſteem.
Father, the merchant then reply’d,
you muſt this fingle penny take,
When I have paſt the ocean wide,
a proof of this I mean to take.
