For she the breeches still will wear, Although it breeds my strife, If I were now a bachelor, I'd never have a wife. Sometimes I go in the morning My wife she will be snorting, And in her bed she'll lurk, Untill the chimes do go at eight, Then she'll begin to wake, Her morning's draught well spiced straight, To clear her eyes she'll take. As soon as she is out of bed, Her looking-glass she takes, So vainly is she daily led, Her morning's work she makes, In putting on her brave attire, That fine and costly be, While I work hard in dirt and mire Then she goes forth a gossiping, Amongst her own comrades, And then she falls a boosing With her merry blades: Straightway she such a noise will make, That all her mates her part to take Thus am I now tormented still, All through her wicked tongue so ill, I am weary of my I know not truly what to do, Nor how myself to mend ; This lingering life doth breed my woe, I would 't were at an end. O that some harmless honest man, Would change with me to rid my care, And take my wife alive, For his dead wife unto his share, But so it likely will not be, My wife is still most froward bent, There is no man will be content Thus to conclude, and make an end Of these my verses rude, I pray all wives for to amend, And with peace to be endued: Take warning all men by the life, That I sustained long, Be careful how you choose a wife, And so I'll end my song. 1 XLI. "THE MERRY CARELESSE LOVER: OR, A pleasant new Ditty, called, I love a lasse since yesterday, And yet I cannot get her." To the tune of―The Mother beguiled the Daughter. [From a black letter copy, printed for Coules.] OFT FT have I heard of many men, I will not grieve, but still will be I will no foolish lover be To waste my means upon her, My heart with grief shall never ache, I will not grieve but still will be And yet I know not what to think, Whether she hates or loves me dear, But let her choose, if she refuse, &c. Some women they are firm in love, |