A pleasant new Ballad, both merry and witty,
That she weth the humours, of the wives in the City.
To the tune of, How shall a good Husband.
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Husband.
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WIfe, prethee come hither & sit thee down by me,
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For I am best pleased when yee art most nie me.
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Wife.
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I scorne to sit by such a blockheaded Clowne,
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No thou shalt not touch the worst hem of my Gowne,
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For I could have had men both proper and good,
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That would have maintaind me even as I wood.
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Husband.
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Wife pray you forgive me if I have offended,
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Let me know my fault Love, and all shall be mended.
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Wife.
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Away you base Rascall, get out of my sight,
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Thou shalt not come neere me by day nor by night,
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For dost thou not see it, even to my disgrace,
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My neighbours exceed me in dressings and Lace.
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Husband.
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If that be the matter wife, let it not move thee,
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Thou shalt have as good as they; come kisse & love me.
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Wife.
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I will have a silke Gowne, a Maske and a Fanne,
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I will never walke abroad without my man,
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And he shall be handsome to, with a good face,
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Not such a Clowne as You, me to disgrace.
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Husband.
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Wife I will attend thee if that may suffice,
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And lay all things ready against you doe rise,
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And then if you please to walke and take the ayre,
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Wife I will waite on thee, be it foule or faire,
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Wife.
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Nay, thou art not worthy to carry my Fan,
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I will be supplied by a propperer man:
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And hee'l have our Coach and horse to ride at pleasure
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And thou shalt run by on foot, and wait our leisure.
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Husband.
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Wife thou shalt have horses and Coach, and a man
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To drive for thy pleasure through Cheapside & Strand,
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And I will goe with thee, and alwayes attend thee,
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My care shall be such Love, as none shall offend thee.
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Wife.
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Ile not be attended by any such Foole.
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No, thou art not worthy to empty my close stoole,
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For thou hast no complement, Courtship nor wit,
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And therefore not worthy to kisse where I sit.
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The second part: To the same tune.
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Husband.
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COme Dame I will tell you, for I cannot hold
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No longer, but tell thee that thou art turn'd Scold,
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For I have borne long with your blockhead and foole,
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Not worthy you say, for to empty your stoole.
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Wife.
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Why so I say still, if you mend not your manners,
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It were better you lived among Brewers or Tanners.
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Husband.
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Come Huswife Ile teach you to use your tongue better
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Or else I will tye it up with such a fetter;
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Shalt cause you to wish you never had used it,
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With such ill-be-fitting tearmes and so abusing it.
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Wife.
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Why what have I said now you take in such dudgeon,
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Which makes you to grumble so like a Curmudgeon.
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Husband.
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Dame Ile make you know how that I am your head,
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And you shall be ready at board, or in bed,
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To give me content, or else be sure of this,
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Both gowne and lace, horse & Coach all you shall misse.
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Wife.
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Alas Sir, you wrong me, to use me so ill,
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In not giving way to my humour and will:
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For tis for your credit man, all this I crave,
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And you are esteemed for my going brave.
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Husband.
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I like no such credit Dame, let them that will,
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Retaine it and hold it, twill give them their fill,
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But as for your selfe Wife, Ile cause you to know,
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What duty and service to me you doe owe.
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Wife.
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I pray you be quiet, if I have offended,
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Forgive me my fault Love, and all shall be mended:
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And here I doe promise and give my consent,
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To doe whatsoever may give you content.
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Husband.
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Well, that I will try ere you part from my sight,
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Fetch up all the Candles, and see you doe light
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Every one of them, even at the wrong ends,
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And then pinne the basket, and so we are friends.
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Wife.
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All this am I willing, and more I will doe,
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To shew my respect, thus I stoope to your shooe.
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Husband.
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Why that's a good Wench, now come kisse & be friends
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Put out all the Candles Ile make thee amends.
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