The Protestant CUCKOLD: A New BALLAD.
Being a full and perfect Relation how B. H. the Protestant-News-forger, caught his beloved Wife Ruth in ill Circumstances.
To the Tune of Packingtons Pound; Or, Timothy Dash the Scriveners Apprentice.
‘Deprendi miserum est.’—Hor.
1.
THough the Town does abound so with Plots and with Shams,
Yet I a true Story to you will relate;
The Godly can sport too, and play you like Lambs,
Which does appear true by poor Benjamin's Fate.
There's a Judgment in't,
Which I can't chuse but hint,
Because he a Lye once from
D. M.'s Cure.
Crookhorn did print:Oh ye Tories look big, and rejoyce at this News,
For Benjamin's Wife is made free of the Stews.
2.
Your Wife full of cares, and of fears, my dear Ben,
Durst not lie alone in this Dangerous Age;
And finding besides you'd no Ink in your Pen,
With a Scrivener she thought it high time to engage:
Then take't not in scorn,
Though you are well born,
That your Spouse has furnish't you with an Ink-horn.
Oh ye Tories look big, &c.
3.
These Fines, as I take them, are things Arbitrary,
That a Subject can't lie with his Wife ev'ry Night;
Young Stationers beware, who hereafter shall marry,
That your Brides you caress and please with all your might:
Or to some young Lover,
Their wants they'l discover,
For long they'l not lie in Sheets without a Cover.
Oh ye Tories look big, &c.
4.
But now to the Matter of Fact we do come,
How Benjamin leave of the Marshal did get,
That he with his Dearest might then lie at home,
But th'Apprentice (alas) had no notice of it:
For no sooner were Ben
And his Wife laid in Den,
But the Youngster began to Whistle, and Hem.
Oh ye Tories look big, &c.
5.
Madam hearing it, to the Window did creep,
To tell Timothy his place was supply'd;
And fancying her Cuckold was laid fast asleep,
She told Tim next Night he should not be deny'd:
But it was a mistake,
For Ben was awake,
And slily resolv'd the Appointment to break:
Oh ye Tories look big, &c.
6.
As soon as she'd sung her Abi à Fenestra,
She softly again to her warm Bed did make,
Where Ben much enrag'd could almost eat his Flesh raw,
But yet the close Cuckold no notice would take:
Yet still as he lay,
He long'd much for day,
So his Wife did for next Night, as guess well you may.
Oh ye Tories look big, and rejoyce at this News,
For Benjamin's Wife is made free of the Stews.
7.
Up rose Ben when 'twas day, and the Sun did appear,
But He, poor Cuckold, was under a Cloud;
Ruth kissing him cry'd, Wilt thou leave me, my Dear?
Then like a true Jilt fell a weeping aloud:
But she never dreamt
That Benjamin meant
Her meeting the Scrivener so to prevent.
Oh ye Tories look big, &c.
8.
Just at the time when begins Treason-Fair,
And Fanatical Rebels croud Dicks Coffee-house,
Then Timothy did to Mis H—repair,
And thought himself safe as ere in Cheese was Mouse▪
For the Zealous Jade,
Ben a True Cuckold made,
And now he's no longer one in Masquerade:
Oh ye Tories look big, &c.
9.
But the Joys of this World are all transitory,
And alas the Tragedy now does begin;
For Ben at the door doth cry out, Where are ye?
Being somewhat impatient till he was let in:
Then with a huge Club,
He poor Dash did Drub,
Who struggled in vain that off he might Rub.
Oh ye Tories look big, &c.
10.
The Neighbours that heard the Youth murther cry,
To keep the Kings Peace▪ the door open did force,
Endeavouring the good man for to pacifie,
Telling him, he had taken her for better for worse:
But think it who cou'd,
That Horn him she wou'd,
Who so kindly o'th' Pillory with her Husband stood.
Oh ye Tories look big, &c.
LONDON: Printed for Francis Smith, 1681.