If it's my Fate (I oftentimes would cry) To have a Wife that will play wantonly, I soon wou'd tame her, or at least I shou'd Be Hang'd for her but I wou'd make her good. But faith it is my Luck to light upon Such Ware, that will a Caterwoulling run, And cannot help it, for to have her full Of sport, she's run away a Soldiers Trull.

The Fourteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom

When at Horn-Fair I see how ev'ry Year Whole droves of Cuckold's thither do appear The very sight thereof wou'd make one swear That none but Cuckolds in the Nation were; Especially if those who are not known, For Cuckolds too the Title wou'd but own, And such as are not summon'd would appear, In those Accoutrements we ought to wear, Which are our Horns, a Pick Axe and a Spade, That Paths may for our Wives be even laid.

The Fifteenth Comfort of Cuckledom

If that our wives will tick their Souls on Sin, Tis vain to make about their Ears a din, For that exasperates their will the more, And where in private may in publick Whore; So then the Scandal coming to all Ears, Each Neighbour will not only fling his Jeers Upon us, but the Boys will hoot it too, And point their Fingers at us where we go, As if we were not come of human Blood, Because they do perceive we've Horns to bud; But to avoid so base and curst a Life, The only way's to Live without a wife.

FINIS

THE FIFTEEN COMFORTS OF A WANTON WIFE: OR, THE FOOL WELL FITTED

Dedicated to the London-Cuckolds

LONDON:

Printed in the Year 1707

THE Fifteen COMFORTS OF A Wanton WIFE, &c

The First Comfort

Unhappy Man! yoak'd with a wanton Wife, The Wedding Day begins thy wretched Life. Not all the Hurry of a Married State, Can stint her Humour, make her more Sedate. She'as all the Tricks the Devil can infuse Into her Head; her Husband to abuse. Her first attempt, when once the knot is ty'd. Is how to Govern what she cannot Guide; She flatters first, and if that chance to fail, To gain her Ends a worser Method shall. Force must (where Words have no effect) ensue, It is her Humour, and it shall be so. Thus does the fright the poor mistaken Sot, To change his Breeches for a Petticoat: If Kick'd or Buffeted, he dare not move, But thinks 'tis only tokens of her Love. What she affirms (tho' diff'rent from the Sight, It must be so, she's always in the right.

The Second Comfort

When thus she'as made her silly Husband bend, She'll never let him have the upper hand. She manages Affairs, while he (poor Soul) Consents, because he's fearful to controul; Not that she will to Diligence adhere, She'll take the Pleasure, he may take the Care. Containing an unequal Dividend, His Business is to get, and hers to spend. If he's unable to supply her Lust, She'll take such care of that, another must. Her Prentice, Bully, Stallion, Foes or Friends, No matter who, if she but gain her Ends: While he's the very Subject of her Scorns, And sounds himself a Cuckold with his Horns: Yet she's so cunning, that she rails at Evil, And says, she hates a Harlot as the Devil. So have I heard a Pulpit Hector rant At Drunkenness, as zealous as a Saint, Curse it to Hell, with trembling and with fear, Tho' 'twas a Vice he seldom cou'd forbear. So she derides the thing she fancies best, And Damns the Sin she harbours in her Breast.

The Third Comfort

Next comes a little Bantling to Town, Which the unthinking Cuckold calls his own. 'Tis like him too, as ever it can stare, The midnight Gossips then do all declare. His very Picture; every one do cry, His Mouth, his Lips, his Chin, his Nose and Eye. They tell him this, and he believes it too, Tho' it was gotten by the Lord knows who. Yet this Advantage from it he doth draw, He reigns chief Master, while she's in the Straw. But when she rises, all his Power must cease, And with it too, his Comfort and his Peace. Her Tongue's compounded of all sorts of ill, Given to lie, but seldom lying still. You Rogue (quoth she) where has your Rakeship been? These Thirty days your Honest Wife lay in? Here, Rock the Child, while I go take the Air, I won't be stifled up no longer here.

The Fourth Comfort

Away she flings, and leaves him with her Brat, And goes from House to House to Drink and Chat, Finds out a Cully to her Lustful Mind, And makes a Bargain with him to be kind. From time to time she has such freaks as these, And turns an errand Strumpet by degrees. Yet blinds her Husband with this wild Excuse, She goes to see an Aunt behind the Meuse. And if he blames her, thus for staying late, He is in danger of a broken Pate. So that he's forc'd to stay at home to Rock, While his Leud Wife is wasting of his Stock. This course of Life for many years she leads. And wallows in her lustful wicked deeds Thus are her teeming years in Folly spent, In Clamour, Self-conceit, and Discontent. Impetuous in her ways; abruptly bold, The worst of Whores, yet must not be controul'd.

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The Thirteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom