The Merry Cuckold.
Who frolickly taking what chance doth befall,
Is very well pleased with Wife, Hornes and all.
To the tune of, The merry Cuckold.
You married men
whom Fate hath assign'd,
To marry with them
that are too much kind,
Learn as I do,
to beare with your wiues,
All you that doe so,
shall liue merry lives.
I haue a Wife
so wanton and so free,
That she as her life,
loues one besides me,
What if she doe,
I care not a pin,
Abroad I will goe,
when my riuall comes in.
I can be merry
and drinke away care,
With Claret and Sherry
and delicate fare.
My Wife has a Trade,
that will maintain me,
What though it be said,
that a Cuckold I be.
While she at home
is taking her pleasure,
Abroad I do rome,
consuming her treasure.
Of all that she gets.
I share a good share,
She payes all my debts,
then for what should I care.
She keepes me braue,
and gallant in cloathing,
All things I haue,
I do want for nothing.
Therefore I conniue,
and winke at her faults,
And daily I striue,
against iealous assaults
While for small gaines:
my neighbours worke hard,
I liue (by her meanes)
and neuer regard.
The troubles and cares,
that belong to this life,
I spend what few dares:
gramercy good Wife.
Should I be iealous,
as other men are,
My breath like to bellowes,
the fire of care
Would blow and augment,
therefore I thinke it best,
To be well content,
though I were Vulcans crest.
Many a time
vpbraided I am,
Some say I must dine,
at the Bull or the Ramme:
Those that do ieere
cannot do as I may,
In Wine, Ale and Béere,
spend a noble a [...]ap.
The Second part. To the same Tune.
I By experience,
rightly do know:
That no strife or variance,
(causes of woe)
Can make a wife
so bent to liue chast,
Thou in stead of strife,
let patience be plac't,
If a man had
all Argus his eyes,
A wife that is bad,
will something deuise,
To gull him to's face,
then what boores mistrust,
The hornes to disgrace,
though weare it I must,
Ile be concent
with this my hard chance,
And in merryment
my head Ile aduance.
Wishing I were
but as rich as some men,
Whose wiues chast appeare,
yet they'l kisse now and then.
One trying to me,
a great comfort is,
Still quiet is she.
though I do amisse,
She dares do no other,
because she knowes well,
That gently I smoother,
what most men would tell.
If I should raue,
her minde would not alter
Her swing she will haue.
though't be in a halter.
Then sith that I get
good gaines by her vice,
I will not her let,
but take share of the price.
Why should I vexe,
and pine in dispaire,
I know that her sexe,
are all brittle ware,
And he that gets one
who canstant abides,
Obtaines that which none,
or but few haue besides.
Yet will I not,
accuse my wife,
For nothing is got,
by railing, but strife.
I act mine owne sence.
intending no wrong,
No Cuckold nor Queane
will care for this song.
But a merry Wife,
that's honest I know it,
As deare as her life,
will sure loue the Poet:
And he thats no Cuckold
in Countrey or City,
Howeuer if lucke hold,
will buy this our Ditty.
FINIS.
Printed by the Assignes of Thomas symcock.