A Potion for an Apothecary, Or, The apothecaryes' portion,  
This ditty doth Concern a matter Rare,  
there's few or none may with the same Compare,  
It may be termed a Net, a Snare, or jin  
That's only set to catch young woodcocks in  
Then let no silly bird here at be jeering,  
Forwhen 'tis Sung you'll say 'tis worth the hearing.  
To the tune of, Old flesh.  
 

OF a gallant Apothecary  
a story I will tell,  
His carriage and behaviour  
and what of him befell:  
He was no silly Coxcomb  
nor he was no Country clown,  
But he lived in famous London,  
a place of high renown,  
He was active in his practice,  
and skilful of his trade,  
And some women did suppose him  
to be a Bil-bow-blade,  
He was witty in his speeches  
and of qualities most rare,  
Yet he like to a woodcock  
was caught at unaware.   

This brave young Pothecary  
he lived void of strife,  
He stood in need of nothing,  
but he wanted a rich wife:  
And for that only purpose  
he many plots have laid  
To marry with some rich Widow:  
or some wealthy Country Maid,  
His pate it was more subtle  
Than any crafty Fox  
But in the last conclusion  
he was her●●d like an ox;  
Now mark what followed after,  
and you shall quickly hear.  
How he like to a woodcock  
was caught at etc..   

A punk that lived in London  
which had of wealth to store,  
For all that she had got was  
by playing of the Whore  
She like a cunning Gipsy,  
consulted with her bawd  
This brave Apothecary  
to cozen and defraud:  
Like a brave young Gentlewoman  
that was in the Country borne  
In habit and attire  
she did herself adorn  
Her bawd like to a servant,  
did wait as may appear,  
And they caught the witty woodcock,  
before he was aware.   

And being so provided,  
as true reports have said,  
The punk she was the Mistress,  
and the bawd her waiting Maid,  
They then took up their lodging  
as it is known full well  
near to the very place where  
this brave young spark did dwell,  
The Mistress feigned herself  
to be sick with cold and phthisic  
And sent to the Pothecary  
cause he should give her physic,  
Who every day employed her  
with pills, and such like gear,  
But he like to a woodcock,  
was caught at etc..   

The Apothecary often,  
to the Gentlewoman came,  
Who beholding of her favour,  
saw she was a handsome dame,  
His heart within his belly,  
with love was set on fire  
But he knew not how nor which way  
to compass his desire:  
And therefore in close secret,  
to the Maid he told his mind,  
Desiring of her favour  
that she would be so kind  
To speak a good word for him,  
unto her Mistress dear,  
And he would well reward her  
as you shall after hear.   

The Maid replied unto him,  
there is no way to win her,  
Unless you do invite her,  
on Sunday next to dinner:  
Whereby to make her merry,  
and cast away all care  
And feast her corpse with junkets  
with Wine and with good cheer  
And when you all are frolic,  
I will a question move  
So that you thereby may know  
whither she will hate or love:  
These words of hers o'er joyed him,  
as it doth well appear,  
And at last the witty woodcock,  
was caught in his own snare.   

A dinner was provided  
at the appointed day  
And the Gentlewoman sent for  
who came without delay,  
In all her gay apparel  
in such a stately manner  
As if she were a Lady  
with her Maid to wait upon her;  
And being sat at dinner  
in all her gallant bravery  
The youngman ne'er mistrusted  
of any point of knavery:  
They eat, drank, and were merry  
having plenty of good cheer  
But that same Sundays dinner  
cost the Apothecary dear.   

Whilst they were inmidst of pleasure  
a man that was but poor,  
Came on a hasty message,  
and knocked at the door  
He brought with him a Letter  
forth of the Country  
Which to the Gentlewoman  
must needs delivered be  
When as she had received it  
the messenger she paid  
And gave the Apothecary  
the letter for to read  
Which letter proved his bane  
as you presently shall hear  
And how this witty woodcock  
was caught in his own snare.   
 
The words that were written in the counterfeit Letter, as if they came from her Brother out of the Country were as followeth.  

Sweet Sister I desire you  
to be patient and content,  
Though I this doleful Letter  
and Messenger have sent  
Whereby to give you notice  
your Father's dead and gone,  
And how he hath bestowed  
his Goods to every one  
Of us that are his Children.  
which doth alive remain,  
Note well what here is set down,  
the case is very plain:  
He hath made me his Executor,  
as you may understand,  
And I am in possession  
of all my Fathers Land.   

To my second Brother Henry  
a Farm he did give.  
Which is enough to maintain him  
and his whilst he doth live,  
And to my Brother Edward,  
as plainly may appear,  
He gave him for continuance  
two hundred pound a year:  
And you have for your Portion  
of Silver and of Gold.  
Fifteen hundred pound of Money  
as good as e'er was told:  
Wherefore I pray good Sister  
come home and take your own,  
That one's part from another  
amongst us may be known.   
Your Loving Brother,  

When as this gentlewoman  
had heard the Letter read.  
How that her aged Father  
was dead and buried,  
She sighed and she sobbed,  
she wept and made great moan  
Her maid that waited on her  
Fetched many a heavy groan:  
The Apothecary seeing such  
floods of sorrows rise,  
Like a kind hen-hearted coxcomb,  
the tears fell from his eyes,  
Now mark the last conclusion,  
and you shall quickly hear,  
How that this witty woodcock  
was caught at unaware.   

When sorrows were past over,  
and mirth did fresh revive,  
They that were almost killed than  
became to be alive,  
The Apothecary having  
a plodding cunning pate,  
He thought for to be doing  
before it was too late:  
If he could wed the woman,  
these were his antic fetches,  
He was sure for to be Master  
of all her Gold and Riches:  
And therewithal he would her,  
without all wit or fear,  
And so this witless woodcock  
was caught in his own snare.   

But to be brief in plain terms;  
the matter so was carried,  
That they agreed together,  
and suddenly were married.  
And for a little season  
they lived free from strife,  
For she liked well of her Husband  
and he liked of his Wife:  
But in a short time after  
strange matters came to pass,  
And a sudden alteration  
betwixt this couple was,  
He married her for lucre  
of riches as you hear,  
And so the simple woodcock  
was caught in his own snare.   

When they had lived together  
Three weeks or something more,  
This Gallant did provide  
i'th' Country for to go,  
To see his wius best friend there,  
that was his chiefest motion,  
And to receive the money which  
was left her for her portion:  
And for his solid journey  
so well he did provide,  
He bought new Boots & borrowed  
a Horse whereon to ride,  
A Sword & Horse-mans-Coat too  
he borrowed as I hear,  
And so into the Country he  
rid without wit or fear.  
And thinking that his Wife had,  
Been honest, true, and just,  
All that which was his own Goods  
with her he left in trust,  
so he coming to the place where  
his brother in law should dwell,  
Of such a manner of person there  
was never a one could tell:  
And as for the old man which  
was said to be dead and gone,  
In all the Parish over of  
that name was never a one:  
Wherefore he back returned  
to London as I hear,  
With a purse that held no money,  
and a heart filled full of care.   

But when he came to London  
no Wife that he could find,  
Which was a greater cross,  
and a trouble to his mind,  
For she was run away with  
the bawd which she called her maid,  
And with a Pimp of hers  
which their heads together laid.  
Wherefore the Apothecary  
in rage most deeply swore,  
That he was basely cozed by  
an old bawd & a young Whore:  
And now his fellow neighbours  
doth at him scoff and jeer,  
'Cause he like to a woodcock  
was caught at unaware.   

You Widowers and bachelors  
if single men you be,  
Be warned by the Apothecary  
and be ruled awhile by me.  
Choose a Wife that's truly honest  
though she be ne'er so poor,  
'Tis better than a rich Wife, if  
she love to play the Whore:  
The Lord will give a blessing  
to Truth and Honesty,  
when théeus, whores, bawds & panders  
may at Tyborn chance to die.  
Be heedful in your choosing,  
and have a special care,  
Lest like to silly woodcocks you  
be caught at unaware.    

London Printed for Tho. Vere.