The cunning Age.
OR
A re-married Woman repenting her Marriage,
Rehearsing her Husbands dishonest carriage.
Being a pleasant Dialogue between a re-married Woman, a Widdow, and a young Wife.
To the Tune of The Wiving Age.
|
Widdow.
|
G ood morrow, kind Gossip, why whither so fast?
|
I pray stay a while, I know ther's no haste,
|
And let's chat a while of some things that are past;
|
I heare say y'are married since I saw you last;
|
O this is a hasty Age,
|
O this is a hasty Age .
|
Mar. Woman.
|
'Tis true, I am marry'd, which hath beene my bane,
|
But if that I were now a Widdow againe,
|
I so would continue; but griefe is in vaine,
|
I must be contented to sing this sad straine,
|
Oh fie on this coozening Age,
|
Oh fie on this etc.
|
Wid.
|
Oh, doe you so quickly your bargaine repent,
|
And yet you thought long e're about it you went?
|
If marriage bring trouble, in time Ile prevent
|
All future unquietnesse, and be content
|
To shun such a coozening Age,
|
To shun etc.
|
Mar. Wo.
|
Oh, woe is me, Gossip, that e're I was borne,
|
I marry'd a Boy, that now holds me in scorne,
|
He romes among Whoores both evening and morne,
|
While I sit at home, like a creature forlorne.
|
Oh, this is a coozening Age,
|
Oh, etc.
|
Wid.
|
Oh, who would imagine that such a young Lad,
|
That scarce was worth twelve pence with al that he had,
|
Should wed a rich woman, and use her so bad?
|
I trust I shall never be so doting mad,
|
To match in this coozening Age, etc.
|
Mar. Wo.
|
The griefe that I suffer can hardly be told,
|
Among Whores and Knaves he consumeth my gold,
|
And if I reproove him, he tels me I scold,
|
I dare not dispose of mine owne as I would.
|
Oh fie on this doting Age,
|
Oh fie on the doting Age.
|
Wid.
|
Well, by your example I warning will take,
|
With no Skip-jacke boy a match I will make;
|
Two Sutors I have, but I both will forsake,
|
For some that are fond, as they brew let them bake;
|
I'le take heed of this cunning Age,
|
I'le take heed of this cunning Age.
|
Mar. Wo.
|
Well, doe so, good Gossip, and so Fare you well,
|
My goodly new husband will curse me to hell:
|
Old John, (God be with him) my neighbours can tell,
|
Did never in's life give me mouthfull of ill.
|
Oh fie on this doting Age,
|
Oh fie on this doting Age.
|
Wid.
|
There is an old Proverbe, that oft hath bin try'd,
|
Set a Beggar on horse-back, to'th Gallowes heel ride;
|
So, wed a young Boy, hee's so puft up with pride,
|
They'l marry rich Widdowes, to scoffe and deride.
|
Oh this is a coozening Age,
|
O this is a coozening Age.
|
|
FINIS.
John Cart.
|
|
|
The Second Part. To the same Tune.
|
Married Woman.
|
B Ut stay, who comes yonder? 'tis well that I tarry'd:
|
My kinswoman Katherin , she lately was mary'd,
|
Shee had better gone to the Church to be bury'd,
|
With her now, I doubt, things are otherwise carryd,
|
She curseth this coozening Age,
|
She curseth this coozening Age.
|
Young Wife.
|
What Cousin and neighbour, are you met together?
|
'Tis well that I hapned so luckily hither,
|
I long have desired to talke with you either;
|
Come, stand not i'th street, let's go travel somwhither
|
Oh fie on this coozening Age,
|
Oh fie on this etc.
|
Both to the young Wife.
|
Well, how dost thou like of thy Husband, good Kate ?
|
We heare of a certaine th'art marry'd of late
|
With a wealthy old widdower, to better thy state,
|
Who loves thee as deare as the Turtle his mate:
|
That's rare in this coozening Age,
|
That's rare etc.
|
Yong Wife.
|
Oh woe is me, Cousin that ever 'twas done,
|
A beggarly slave my affection hath wonne;
|
He brag'd of his riches, whereof he had none,
|
But five little Children, foure Girles, and a Sonne,
|
Oh fie on this coozennig Age,
|
Oh fie on this etc.
|
When he came a wooing, he borrow'd a Cloake,
|
And Rings to his fingers, my love to provoke;
|
The divell a word of his Children he spoke,
|
But now we are marry'd, I find that hee's broke,
|
Oh fie on this coozening Age,
|
Oh fie on this etc.
|
Besides, hee's so jelous, that if I but looke
|
On any Yong-man, hee'l be sworne on a booke,
|
That I make him Cuckold by hooke or by crooke;
|
This doting suspition no woman can brooke.
|
Oh fie on this doting Age, etc.
|
Mar. Wom.
|
It seemes then, good Kate, we are both alike sped,
|
Ill fortune had we, with such Husbands to wed:
|
For if all be true that heere thou hast sed,
|
I would either we, or our Husbands were dead.
|
Oh fie on this coozening Age,
|
Oh fie on this coozening Age.
|
Wid.
|
Your speeches will make me still willing to tarry,
|
Sith Widdowes and Batchelors both doe miscarry;
|
Yet 'tis said in London , that when we doe bury
|
Our Husbands, next moneth we are ready to marry:
|
Oh this is a lying Age,
|
Oh this is etc.
|
Nay more, to abash us, the Poets o'th times,
|
Doe blazon us forth in their Ballads and Rimes,
|
With bitter invective satyricall lines,
|
As though we had done some notorious crimes.
|
Oh this is a scandalous Age.
|
Oh this is etc.
|
I would I the Poet could get in my clutches,
|
He were better write ballads against the Arch-dutches:
|
There is one moe ballad that sorely us touches,
|
The hetro[?] Singer, that goes upon Crutches,
|
Doth roare out the Wiving Age,
|
Doth roare out etc.
|
But 'tis no great matter, let Knaves say their worst,
|
And swell with foule envy until they doe burst.
|
I keepe you so long, I shall make you be curst,
|
I could find in heart to stay still, if you durst:
|
Oh now comes the parting Age,
|
Oh now comes the parting Age.
|
|
FINIS.
|
|
|