11 Be wise, my son, and rejoice my heart. And I return my reproacher a word.
12 The prudent hath seen the evil, he is hidden, The simple have passed on, they are punished.
13 Take his garment, when a stranger hath been surety, And for a strange woman pledge it.
14 Whoso is saluting his friend with a loud voice, In the morning rising early, A light thing it is reckoned to him.
15 A continual dropping in a day of rain, And a woman of contentions are alike,
16 Whoso is hiding her hath hidden the wind, And the ointment of his right hand calleth out.
17 Iron by iron is sharpened, And a man sharpens the face of his friend.
