The Lamentation of a new married man, briefely declaring the
sorrow and griefe that comes by marrying a young wanton wife.
To the tune of, Where is my true Love
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YOu Batchelors that brave it
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So gallant in the street,
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With Muske and with Rose-water,
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Smelling all so sweet:
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With Shooes of Spanish leather,
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So featly to your feete,
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Behold me a married yong man.
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Before that I was wedded,
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I lived in delight,
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I went unto the dancing Schoole,
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I learn'd at Fence to fight:
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With twenty other pleasures,
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That now are banisht quite,
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I being a married young man.
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When I lived single,
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I knew no cause of strife,
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I had my heart in quiet,
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I led a pleasant life:
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But now my chiefest study
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Is how to please my Wife,
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I being a yong married man.
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Quoth she, You doe not love me,
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To leave me all alone,
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You must goe a gadding,
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And I must bide at home,
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While you among your Minions,
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Spend more then is your owne:
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This life leades a married man.
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Do you thinke to keepe me
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So like a drudge each day,
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To toyle and moyle so sadly,
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And la[m]e me everyway?
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Ile have a mayd, bir Lady,
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Shall worke while I doe play,
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This life leades a married man.
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Then must I give attendance
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Upon my Mistresse heeles:
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I must wait before her,
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While she doth walke the Fields.
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Shee'l eate no meate but Lobsters,
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And pretty Grigs and Eeles:
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This life, etc.
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Then must I get her Cheries,
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And dainty Kather'n Peares:
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And then she longs for Codlings,
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She breedeth Child she sweares:
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When God knowes tis a Cushion
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That she about her beares:
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This life, etc.
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She must have Rabbet suckers,
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Without spot or specke:
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I must buy her Pescods
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At sixteene groates the Pecke:
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She must have Egs and white wine,
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To wash her face and necke:
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T[h]is life leades a married man.
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If once to passe it commeth,
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That she is brought to bed,
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Why then with many dainties
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She must be dayly fed:
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A hundred toyes and trifles
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Comes then within her head:
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This life, etc.
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Against that she is Churched,
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A new Gowne she must have:
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A dainty fine Rebato
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About her necke so brave:
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French bodies, with a Farthingale,
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She never linnes to crave,
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This life, etc.
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Abroad among her Gossips
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Then must she dayly goe:
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Requesting of this favour,
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A man must not say no,
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Lest that an unkind quarrell
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About this matter grow:
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This life, etc.
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To Offerings and Weddings,
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Abroad then she must prance,
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Whereas with lusty Youngsters
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This gallant Dame must dance:
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Her Husband must say nothing,
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What hap soever chance:
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This life, etc.
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And then there is no remedy,
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She must goe to a Play,
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To purge abounding Choller,
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And drive sad dumps away:
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She tarries out till midnight,
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She sweares she will not stay:
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This life, etc.
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When home at last she commeth,
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To bed shee gets her soone,
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And there she sleepes full soundly,
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Till the next day at noone,
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Then must she eate a Cawdle
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With a silver spoone:
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This life, etc.
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Therefore my friends be warned,
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You that unwedded be,
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The troubles of a married man
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You doe most plainely see,
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Who likes not of his living,
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Would he would change with me,
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That now am a married man.
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Where I was wont full often
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Good company to keepe,
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Now I must rocke the Cradle,
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And hush the Childe asleepe:
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I had no time nor l[e]asure
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Out of my doores to p[ee]pe,
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Since I was a married young man.
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The second Part to the same Tune.
An answere sent to the young marryed Man,
Written most friendly by his gentle Wife Nan.
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ALacke wherefore lament you,
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your happy wedded state?
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Therein you shew great folly,
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repentance comes to late.
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To make your selfe a mocking-stock,
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with every scoffing mate,
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Now you are a married young man.
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In youth, doe well remember,
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your mind was all on pride:
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Deceiving sport and pleasure,
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your lavish thoughts did guide:
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'Tis time such foolish fancies
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should now be layd aside,
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Now you are etc.
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When you lived single,
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your time you vainely spent:
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Unto unlawfull pastime,
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your yongling wits were bent:
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But now you must learne wisdome,
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discredit to prevent:
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Sith you are, etc.
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An alas to estimation,
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longs to a single life:
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What were you but a skip Jacke,
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before you had a wife,
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A mate for every mad-cap,
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a stirrer up of strife,
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Till you were a married young man.
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A Wife hath won you credit,
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a wife makes you esteem'd.
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An honest man through marriage,
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now are you surely deem'd,
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And you shall find at all times,
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a wife your dearest friend,
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Now you are etc.
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Then is it right and reason,
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your wife should pleased be:
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It is a happy houshold,
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where couples doe agree:
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It doth delight the Angels,
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such concord for to see,
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Then blest is the maried young man.
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If I doe blame your gadding,
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it is for love be sure:
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Bad company doth alwayes
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ill counsell still procure.
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The man that will be thrifty,
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must at his worke endure,
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While he is a married young man.
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This works his Commendations,
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amongst the very best:
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The chiefe men of the Parish,
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his quaintance will request:
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And then he shall be called
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to office with the rest,
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When he is a married young man.
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He shall be made a Headborough,
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unto his credit great,
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At what time all neighbours,
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his friendship will intreat,
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And then it is most decent,
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he should goe fine and neate,
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When he is a married young man.
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Then bareheaded unto him,
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a number dayly flocks:
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To helpe him by his office,
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from many stumbling blocks:
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Then comes he to be Constable,
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and set knaves in the stocks:
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Thus riseth a married young man.
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His wife shall then be seated
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in Church at her desire,
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Her Husband he is sideman,
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and sits within the Quire,
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Then he is made Churchwarden,
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and placed somewhat higher:
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Great joy to a married young man.
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Then seeing all this credit
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by marriage you doe finde,
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Unto your wife tis reason,
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you should be good and kinde:
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And sometimes waite upon her,
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according to her minde:
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As best fits a married young man.
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If freindly you goe with her
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to walke out of the Towne,
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Why then you may have pleasure,
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to give her a greene Gowne:
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To have so great a favour,
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some men would give a crowne,
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Which is not a married young man
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As for the Peares and Apples;
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you give me in the street,
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The Cheries or the Codlings,
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for pretty women meet,
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At night I give you kindly
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a thousand kisses sweet:
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Great joy to a married yong man.
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An hundred other pleasures,
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I doe you then betide:
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In bringing forth your Children,
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great sorrow I doe bide.
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For twenty Gownes and Kirtles,
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the like would not be tride,
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By any fine yong married man.
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Why should you scorne the Cradle,
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I tell you sir most plaine,
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There is not any pleasure,
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but sometimes breedeth paine.
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If you will not be troubled,
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why then good sir refraine
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To play like a married young man.
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