WEll met honest Robin, I am glad that it is my fortune once more to meete with, thee before thou art hang'd?

Why thou whorson Ras­call dost thou thinke ever I make account to be hang'd?

I if thou beest not, I dare to bee hang'd or thee, if ever thy wise bee pleasd.

When my wife is pleas'd I thinke in my conscience the world will bee at an end: 'sfoot I have such a wife as I thinke the devill hath not such another in his dominion.

Why, what atles her?

Prethee Dick tell me, wast thou ever in London?

Yes that I have, what then?

And didst thou ever heare a thing cald Boe. bel ring there?

Yes that I have by a good token, I once walking in Cheap-side to buy three yards of blacke pudding, the Bell made such a hum­ming in my yeares, as if a thousand Tinkers had beene at worke there.

But didst thou sirrah Dick here my Wife: when her tongue is upon the pinne of scolding, (which is almost at all times) thou wouldst thinke that thou wert a hun­ting with the Devills Reagles, which were scenting after a Citie Pettifogging Lawyer.

Is shee so well verst then in the art of scoulding?

I dare pawne my eares that O­vid had never better skil in his de Arte A­mandi,

Thou speakst Latin Robin.

A foolish sentence which I have heard often repeated, which they say in our vulgar Translation, is the Art of Love.

I, but is Scoulding her worst fault?

No, hang her: I caught her not long since lying chick by choule with a Sattin Doublet.

Thou art in iest art thou not?

I cannot tel whether I am in iest or no; but I am sure I found her making me a Cuckold in good earnest. Nay, and Ile tell thee what a tricke shee served mee too: I like a good honest man, going to make a dis-iunctive betwixt her and the Sat­tin doublet, shee like a whore as shee was, very orderly, leapes out of her bed, and without any mercie at all, snatches up a good handsome Crab-sticke, and belaboured my iacket very handsomely, and when shee had done, shee went to bed againe unto her Sattin doublet, to whom shee lay very closely.

And what didst thou doe all the while?

Faith Ile tell thee, when I saw there was no remedy, very faire and honestly I lighted them with a Candle, for feare least betwixt them they should make my hornes grow crooked.

Faith, thou hadst very hard fortune to meet with her.

Push, Ile tell thee more yet, when we were married first, if I had given her the least occasion which could bee, she would have been up very earely in a morning, when her neigh­bours did thinke like a good huswife shee had beene up beating of her Bucks, she very coura­giously was bumbasting of my poore Car­kasse?

Can she fight so well?

Faith for a little while I durst have turn'd her loose to the strongest devill in hell for about or two.

And is shee as bad still?

No, no, (God be thanked) the world's well amended now.

How didst thou doe to tame her?

Ile tell you; at length being resolutely bent with all the might and power I had, I tide her up to racke and manger, where I kept her so long fasting, untill shee swore never to scold, or lift up her hand against mee any more.

And hath shee beene as good as her word.

Let her breake it when shee pleases, I know the way how to feed her againe with the same sauce.

But leaving of this discourse concer­ning thy wife: canst thou tell mee any newes from abroad?

'Faith Robin I can tell thée none, but can sing some.

Prethee doe: but bee sure thou keepe thy tongue within compasse.

Let me alone for that: wherefore open your eares.

Art thou sure Robbin that there is no harme in all this, art thou not out of compasse.

As sure as I take this Can and drinke to thee: I am sure there is no harme in all this.

Then prethee lets have the second part to the same tune,

I drinke to thee Robin, I am sure there hath beene no harme in all this.

Why but Robin is thy names-sake runne away?

Yes faith Dick that he is, and it is re­ported, that he fled as swift as if hee had beene carryed in a Swallowes belly.

Is't possible? Ile tell thee (Ro­bin) hee was as faire a speecht fellow as one should have heard speake in a Sommers day.

Ile warrant thee hee owed more scores than one: or else I know that hee had such friends as would not have suffered him to runne away for so small a trifle as that was.

It may be so indeed: yet Robin, thou hast kept within compasse, upon which I drink to thee, that thou maist whet thy whistle: I am sure that there is no harme in all this.

Prethee Dick tell me why thou art so cautious of being harmfull?

So soone as thy song is ended, Ile tell thee,

This was a hundred to one (Robin) Rich, cut throat of our parish.

The very same.

'Sfoot, I knew him very well, hee was Constable once was he not?

Yes that he was.

Hee was a devillish domineering fel­low: but a poxe on him, I have reason to re­member him, through woefull experience.

Why did hee ever doe thee any hurt?

Yes; when hee was Constable hee made me sit for three whole houres together with my leg in a Pidgeon hole: looke if the very print of the Stocks be not here still. Well but if the Rope and he be marryed together, as I live, Ile not mend a shooe, or boot, but will make holiday on purpose to dance at his wed­ding.

So will many a good fellow more be­sides thy se [...]fe: Ile tell thee, our whole Cor­poration of Coblers are resolved that day not to plucke a stitch.

Hast thou any more newes to sing, I am sure there hath beene no harme in all this?

A little more, and then I conclude.

Lets have it.

Faith he was the wiser for that, for as I heard the poore man wronged is sure to be righted there.

Then by my consent al England should goe thither.

Nay but keepe within compasse, least harme be found in that.

You are still so cautions: I pray now my song is ended, shew your reason for it.

I will because I heare daily many bu­sie fellowes talke about that which nothing concernes them: as that such a Lord hath done [Page 11] more than hee can answer, and such a one is committed, and such a one, whilst the Pillory tels him a tale, hee must lend an eare to it: what have such poore shrubs as thou and I to doe with such matters? let every Tub stand upon his owne bottome; then may wée talke and spare not, and yet keepe within com­passe.

Thou saist very true.

Now I have shewed you my reason, let us drinke the other pot, and sing thou the o­ther Song, and so we will bequeath our selves to our quiet rest.

Listen to me then.