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EBBA 30573

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
The Cuckolds Lamentation
of a Bad WIFE.
He is tormented, and she Tanns his Hide,
He knows not how to live, nor where to abide;
Besides she makes him for to wear the Horn,
And he wishes that he never had been born:
To all young Batchelours now he does declare,
When they goe a Wooing for to have a Care,
Theres is many Maids good, but some proves evil,
His Luck was bad, he met with a She-Devil.
To the Tune of The Country Farmer. Or, Why are my Eyes still flow------ing.

YOung Batchelours all, come hear this new Song,
And take warning by me, lest you do your selves wrong
For I like a Fool must needs go to be Wed,
To bring a Slut, and a Whore, and a Scold to my Bed;
Beside she will fight with me every-day,
She is such a devilish Quean, I do say:
A Man needs no more Sorrow to shorten his Life,
When he has such hard Fortune to have a bad Wife.

All day I lye working and taking of pains,
And she lyes at the Ale-house and spends all the Gains;
And when I come home and give her a word,
Shell snap me up short and no comfort afford,
And then shell say, Sirrah where is all your Money?
You have bin with your Whores, and you have left neer a penny;
And then she lets fly that I am weary of my Life,
Then God help that poor Man that has got such a Wife:

I complain of my Wedding, and of my bad Life,
What fortune I had in choosing a Wife;
If I had sought Hell there had not been such another
For fighting, and scolding, and swearing together,
That I am frighted sometimes clear out of my Wit,
For fear that my Bones they should be sore beat:
A Man needs no more sorrow to shorten his Life,
Then God help that poor Man that has got such a Wife.

On Saturday-night I staid late for my Wage,
And when I came home my Wife was in a great Rage,
She wellcomd me home, but neer calld me Honey,
But bumbasted me soundly, and calld for my Money;
She gave me a slap on the Chops, and put me in a fright,
That I promise you truly that my Nose is sore yet:A Man needs no more sorrow to shorten his Life.
When he has such hard Fortune to have a bad Wife.

She makes me a Cuckold when I am at work,
Her Cullies about her so closely do lurk,
I may curse the time that eer I was born,
That I must be forced now to wear the Horn;
No, the Horn is not all, but she bangs my Bones sore,
And when I am in Bed with her, she throws me on the floar
A Man needs no, etc.

I cannot sleep quietly, I now will be sworn,
I am so tormented with the pain of the Horn,
Therefore honest Batchelors have a great care
That you never, like me, draw your selves in a Snare;
For my Wife is so mankin when she sets on
That I am not able to tame her, let me do what I can:
A Man needs no, etc.

She minds nought but Idleness, this is the Truth,
And to find fault with her I am very loath,
One day I but speak, and she did begin,
She took up the Tongs and broke both my shins,
You Cuckoldy Rogue do you know what you say?I will soften your Hide if you prate in that way:Did you eer hear the like, she will shorten my Life,
God help that poor Man that has got such a Wife.

When any of her Customers comes to our House,
I must stand at the back; I dare not say Dun is the Mouse,
She will be so angry at me, I swear,
That I am ready to bepiss my Breeches for fear;
And if I do not carry my Cup then upright
Lamb-pye I must have to my Supper that night:I am so tormented I am weary of my Life,
God help that poor Man that has got such a Wife.

And now to conclude, you have heard my Distress,
My Fortune was bad, all this I confess,
And Batchelors all take warning by me,
Some Women are dangerous Cattel you see;
For I am Hen-peckt to the sight of my Friends,
And have nothing but Blows to make me amends:I am so tormented I am weary of my Life,
God help that poor Man that has got such a Wife.


Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball
in Pye-corner.

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