The story told in _A Groatsworth of Wit_ quite closely resembles that of _Never too Late_ and is clearly autobiographical. To this fact Greene bears witness when, near the end of the story, he writes: "Here, gentlemen, break I off Roberto's speech, whose life in most part agreeing with mine, found one self punishment as I have done. Hereafter suppose me the said Roberto, and I will go on with that he promised." In this story, "an old new-made gentleman" named Gorinius, living in an island city "made rich by merchandise, and populous by long space," had two sons, the one a scholar, named Roberto, married and but little regarded, the other named Lucanio, the heir-apparent of his father's ill-gathered goods. On his death-bed Gorinius bequeathed his entire property to Lucanio: "only I reserve for Roberto, thy well-read brother, an old groat (being the stock I first began with), wherewith I wish him to buy a groatsworth of wit." Upon the death of Gorinius, and the distribution of the property according to will, Roberto "grew into an inward contempt of his father's unequal legacy, and determinate resolution to work Lucanio all possible injury." As Lucanio "was of a condition simple, shamefast, and flexible to any counsel," Roberto seemed on a fair way to success, until Lamilia, a courtesan with whom he had plotted for Lucanio's undoing, repudiated the understanding and informed the heir of the plot against his gold. Forbidden the house, "Roberto, in an extreme ecstasy, rent his hair, curst his destiny, blamed his treachery, but most of all exclaimed against Lamilia, and in her against all enticing courtesans." ... "With this he laid his head on his hand, and leant his elbow on the ground, sighing out sadly, 'Heu patior telis vulnera facta meis!'" Roberto's lamentations were overheard by one sitting on the other side of the hedge, who, getting over, offered such comfort as his ability would yield, doing so "the rather," as he said, "for that I suppose you are a scholar, and pity it is men of learning should live in lack." Greatly wondering Roberto asked how he might be employed. "'Why, easily,' quoth he, 'and greatly to your benefit; for men of my profession get by scholars their whole living.' 'What is your profession?' said Roberto. 'Truly, sir,' said he, 'I am a player.' 'A player!' quoth Roberto; 'I took you rather for a gentleman of great living; for if by outward habit men should be censured, I tell you, you would be taken for a substantial man.' 'So am I where I dwell,' quoth the player, 'reputed able at my proper cost to build a windmill.'" Roberto now again asked how he was to be used. "'Why, sir, in making plays,' said the other; 'for which you shall be well paid, if you will take the pains.' Roberto, perceiving no remedy, thought it best to respect his present necessity, (and), to try his wit, went with him willingly." As Roberto's fortunes improved Lucanio's drooped, until finally "Roberto hearing of his brother's beggary, albeit he had little remorse of his miserable state, yet did he seek him out, to use him as a property; whereby Lucanio was somewhat provided for." The character and miserable end of Roberto as a result of the profession he had assumed may be given in Greene's own words: "For now when the number of deceits caused Roberto to be hateful almost to all men, his immeasurable drinking had made him the perfect image of the dropsy, and the loathsome scourge of lust tyrannised in his bones. Living in extreme poverty, and having nothing to pay but chalk, which now his host accepted not for current, this miserable man lay comfortlessly languishing, having but one groat left (the just proportion of his father's legacy), which looking on, he cried, 'O, now it is too late, too late to buy wit with thee; and therefore will I see if I can sell to careless youth what I negligently forgot to buy.'"