( 11 )
Alas, cryes one, you are happy to me,
Weeping and drinking most heartily,
My Husband whores and drinks all the week,
Judge you then Neighbours how I am to seek:
(Then they all shook their heads, and lookt most sad)
These are they, quoth the Midwife, spoyl our trade;
But be of good cheer daughter, come, come,
If he wont, another must in his room.
Alas, quoth she, with a jolly red Nose,
There's many an able Christian, God knows,
Would leap at that which thy Husband despises:
Then 'gin they to talk of the several sizes,
Of the long, and the short, the little and great,
'Twould put a modest Gam ster into a sweat.
I thank my God, quoth the Midwife then,
I have buried three Husbands, all proper men;
I thank my God for't, though I say't that shou'd not,
Yet I can't say, like one that understood not,
There was no difference between the three,
But if any man a good workman be,
He may well do enough, if he be intent,
To give a reasonable She content.
I speak merrily Neighbours,———hah———hah———heres to you all,
God send us more of these good jobs to fall:
By and by they single out a poor woman,
That has had the luck to have as good as no man;
But her they use most unmercifully,
Calling her Husband Do-little, and Cully,
Fumbler and Gelding, and then they all exhort her,
Rather then be sham'd, to hire some strong Porter.
Now after this discourse, and th' Wines drank up,
They all depart to their own homes to sup;
After that to bed, and 'tis a pound to a doight,
If their Husbands sleep for their Quail-pipes that night.
Others not so concern'd, walk in the fields,
To give their longing Wives what Cake-house yields;To be
heard of
men.
And as they go, God, Grace, and Ordinances,
Is all their chat, they seem in heav'nly trances;
Thus
