The heavy heart, and a light purse. Being the good fellows vindication to all his fellow companions ... Tune of, My lord Monks march to London, or, Now we have our freedom, &c. / This song it was composed and made by a loyal heart that is called John Wade. Wade, John, fl. 1660-1680. 1681-1686? Approx. 6 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B06556 Wing W166A ESTC R186128 47012703 ocm 47012703 174670 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B06556) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 174670) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English Books, 1641-1700 ; 2694:10) The heavy heart, and a light purse. Being the good fellows vindication to all his fellow companions ... Tune of, My lord Monks march to London, or, Now we have our freedom, &c. / This song it was composed and made by a loyal heart that is called John Wade. Wade, John, fl. 1660-1680. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. s.n. [London : between 1681 and 1686] Contains 1 illustration. Place and date of publication taken from Wing (2nd ed.) Imperfect: cropped at bottom with loss of text. Reproduction of original in: University of Glasgow. Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. 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Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor. The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines. Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. Broadsides -- England -- 17th century. 2008-02 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2008-08 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-10 Mona Logarbo Sampled and proofread 2008-10 Mona Logarbo Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion The heavy Heart , and a light Purse . Being the good fellows vindication to all his fellow Companions , wishing them all to have a care , and keep out of the Ale-wives snare , for when they are out you may get in , but when you are in , you can't get out , this by experience he hath found true , but now he bids them all adieu . Tune of , My Lord Monks March to London , or , Now we have our freedom , &c. This Song it was composed and made By a Loyal heart that is called John Wade . FVll fifty Winters have I seen , yet nine and forty too many , Except that I had better been , and not spent my means so vainly : Far I did rore and spend my store , no company could shun me , But now I find , and bear in mind , my kind heart hath undone me . Once I had means , and lived well , my neighbours all they know it , But by the ringing of the Ale-wives bell , I quickly did forgo it . My Land I sold for silver and gold , they then so easily won me , Which makes me say , as well I may My Wife she would me intreat for to be more wiser ; Then I told her with anger great , it 's rare to be a Miser , Hang it ( quoth I ) let money fly , sorrow shalt ne'r o'rerun me ; But now I see , I was so free , that my kind heart hath undone me . Before I 'd give one penny to my wife , I 'd spend two with my fellows ; My children must fast , which bred much strife , whilst I sate in the Alehouse ; Whilst I drank sack , they small beer did lack , no grief could over-run me , They lived in want whilst I did rant SO long as I had store of coyn , I 'de never leave my ranting , Whilst I did with good fellows joyn , my wife she sate a wanting . Though they did cry , yet what car'd I , sorrow should ne'r o'rerun me , Let who wou'd call , I de pay for all , till my kind heart had undone me . Here would I trust , there would I lend , and spend my money vainly , For strong liquor I oft would send , now I must tell you plainly . My children they would to me pray , Good Father let company shun ye , Yet I de not spare , nor for them care , till my kind heart had undone me , I had good House , I had good Land , and lived in good behaviour , But I spent it all at their command now jeers me for my labour . My Hostis she woald wait on me , my Host then easily won me , Cause they did see that I was free till my kind heart had undone me . Run Tap , run Tapster , I would cry , hang sorrow let 's be merry , My gold and silver I let fly in both White-wine and Sherry , For my own part , I ne'r will start , no company will shun me , Good fellows all I in wou'd call till my kind heart had undone me . My Hostis she would still provide for me Larks , Chickens and Cony ; To bed at night she would me guide , but 't was for the sake of my money , She would mehap , my head would cap , th●● by their tricks they won me , Thus with a pin they drew me in , till my kind heart had undone me . My Hostis she was very wise , if that my head grew adle , I' th' morn as soon as I could rise she would provide me a Caudel Then comes my Host strait with a Toast , saying boy I 'le not shun thee , Thus by their wile , they me beguile , till my kind heart hath undone me . But when that I no money had , to call I could not leave it , To be rid of me then they was glad , at last they did perceive it . Then where I spent and money lent , they strait began to shun me , My Hostis Brown began to frown , when my kind heart hath undone me . I sent my child thought to prevail , a shilling for to borrow , Or else to trust me two quarts of Ale , lo thus began my sorrow , She 'd send me none , bid her be gone , thus grief did over-run me , Full fourty pound with her I drown'd , till my kind heart hath undone me . So by that means I strait grew wise , and quickly left my ranting , You 'l say 't was time to be precise , when every thing was wanting . For I scarce had to buy me bread , grief did so over-run me , They did not care though poor I were when my kind heart had undone me . Now I wish good fellows every one in time for to be ruled , Let Ale wifes sing a mournful Song , and never by them be fooled . You that do spend in time amend , before grief over-run ye , Those that do rant in time may want , for my kind heart hath undone me . If I had but half that I spent in vain , methinks I should live bravely , For I lived once and paid no rent , though now I am bound to slavery , For I am poor , turn'd out of door , grief doth so over-run me , So farewel all , both great and small ,