EBBA 35076
Houghton Library - Huth EBB65H
Ballad XSLT Template
All is ours and our
HUSBANDS, Or the Country Hostesses
VINDICATION.
She durst not Scold 'tis counted for an Evil.
Sheel cheat and whore, and yet be counted civil;
Sheel fill her Pockets by poor Drunkards Losses,
And send them all to Jayl by weeping Crosses.
To the Tune, of the Carmans Whistle, Or High Boys up go we.
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COme all you Tribes of Hostises,
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That Women against do rail,
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Come lend me some of your advice
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Their glamorous Tongues to quail;
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And I will make it plain appear
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By nothing but what is true,
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That all that we get in the Year
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Is nothing but what's our Due.
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For if an honest Company
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Of boon good fellows come:
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And call for Liquor merrily
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In any private Room:
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Then if I fill the Juggs with Froth
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Or cheat them of one or two
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If I can swear them out of both
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The Reckoning is my due.
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Or if a shurking Fellow come
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That have no mony at all
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And take up any of my Room
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And for my Liquor call:
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Then if I take away their Coat
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Let it be old or new:
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Or worth a Crown more than thee shot,
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nothing but what's my Due.
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And some their are that are so bold,
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To swear that I must trust,
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When once my drink they have they think
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That then be sure we must:
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From such the Court or common Law,
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What 'ere their Wives insue
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Shall make their Arse to lye in Straw
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Their Beedding is all my due.
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My Husband must not Plow or Cart,
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Or work like other Men:
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My Children must not learn the art
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To either Card or Spin?
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My Tapster must live fine and brave
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For he of one make two
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And many a Groat for me he save
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nothing etc.
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But I must have anorher way
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Our livings forget,
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And when you hear I'm sur you'l say
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'Tis nothing but what is fit:
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If Tap should fayl toot go the Tail
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The Proverb old is true,
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If half a piece come to my Fleece
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nothing etc.
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Perhaps our Husbands would repine,
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If they of this should know
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And think our little Babes divine
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Were got in Cuckolds Row
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You know their gains come by the pains
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Of only me and you,
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They must not scorn to wear the horn
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nothing etc.
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Come Neighbours drink with one consent
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A lusty Bowl of Wine
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'Twill break our Hearts of discontent
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And make our Noses shine:
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Each took the Cup and drank it up
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And swore shee'd spoken true
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And vow'd to have the 'tother Sup
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Before they bid her adieu.
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Then I that heard the Verdict past
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How this base cheating Crew,
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Consented all both first and last
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To make make poor Drunkards Rue;
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I took my Pen and writ this Song
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And to the Drunkards send it
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That they with me may strive to see
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Their wicked Life and mend it.
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Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in Pye-Corner
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