THE
Innocent Shepherd and the Crafty Wife
Or, A Dialogue between a Shepherd and his Love.
Brethren, see here what some are Born unto,
If it's your Birth-right, what should Women do?
Kind thing they think, they do all for the best,
But so or not, we must Contented rest.
To the Tune of, The Country-Farmer; Or, The Buxom Virgin.
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A Silly poor Shepherd was folding his Sheep,
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He walked so long he got Cold in his Feet;
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He laid on his Coals now by two and by three,
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But the more he laid on the Cuc---colder was he.
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Husband.
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Alas! my good Wife, what shall we do now
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To buy us more Fuel we'l sell the Brown Cow,
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To buy us more Coals for to warm thee and me,
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But the more he laid on the Cuc---colder was he.
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Wife.
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Some Shepherds, said she, themselves warm can keep,
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By feeding their Flocks, and by folding their Sheep;
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But when thou com'st home with thy Car-box and Hook
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O it grieves me to see how Cuc---cold thou dost look.
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Husband.
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Alas! good wife, I walk through Dew & Mire,
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Whilst thou perhaps, warmest thyself at a fire;
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With a Friend in a corner in some sort, whereby
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The Warmer thou art the Cuc---colder am I.
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Wife.
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O fie! my dear Husband, you sure are in jest,
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You see how I Labour to get you the best;
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I Card and I Spin, both above and below,
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To Cloath you till you no Cuc---Colder can grow.
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Husband.
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You told me you pluck'd wool from hedge, bush, & tree
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To make a warm Coat and a Night Cap for me;
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But you Reel at a rate, with a Spindle so free,
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That I fear when they're done the Cuc---Colder to be.
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Wife.
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O Husband! consider you should be content,
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And not at you Fortune Repine or Repent;
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Since I go abroad with a Neighbour or two,
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Tho' the more I perform the Cuc---Colder are you.
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Husband.
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Well, my sweet Wife, though my fortune is bad,
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More Fuel to warm me must quickly be had;
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Or else whilst with abroad you do gad,
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I still shall come home more Cuc---Colder and sad.
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Wife.
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Consider some way then, and sell not our Cow,
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For she gives us Milk to support us, you know;
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And makes you a Posset, and other good Chear,
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To comfort your heart when Cuc---Cold you appear.
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Husband.
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If Colly be kept, then I must sell my Sheep,
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For we a good Fire and warm Victuals must keep;
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Since, introth, many times I am ready to weep,
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To think how Cuc---Cold in my Bed I do sleep.
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Wife.
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I'le get you more Blanckets that grief to Redress,
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Then prithee dear Husband, your Sorrow suppress,
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I'le hug you, and kiss you, and ease you of care,
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Till you shall forget how Cuc---Cold you now are
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Husband.
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Alas! my dear Wife, I fear all will not do,
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The pain in my Fore-head such Bumbs makes to grow,
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That the more I do strive, the sad grief to forego,
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I still the Cuc---Colder to all Men do show.
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Wife.
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I'le get you a Plaister shall make 'um to shrink,
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And when I apply it you always must wink;
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A Doctor I know that will do you the Grace,
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That you your Cuc---Coldness shall ever out-face.
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Husband.
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And tho' that be done, what is it to me,
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Or had I a Night-Cap that none might 'em see;
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Yet I am the same still in every Degree,
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I still as Cuc---Cold as I ever shall be.
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Wife.
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Come, come be contented, as many more are,
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Who catch the same Cold, yet their Fuel do spare;
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He's a Fool that repines at what can't be redrest,
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Be glad you no more are Cuc---Cold then the rest.
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Husband.
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O Wife, how I scratch at the Story you tell,
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For tho' you in Cunning do many excell;
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Yet troth 'tis too hard, though we gain by it well,
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For ever, for ever, Cuc---Coldly to Dwell.
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