The Scolding Wives Vindication: OR, An ANSWER to the CUCKOLD'S COMPLAINT.
Wherein she shows what just Reasons she had to exercise Severity over her insufficient Husband.
To the Tune of,
The Cuckold's Complaint.
Licensed according to Order.
I Have been abus'd of late,
by some of the Poet's Crew,
Who says, I broke my Husband's Pate,
but this I did never do.
'Tis true I his Ears did cuff,
and gave him a Kick or two;
For this I had just Cause enough,
because he would nothing do.
He's lain like a Log of Wood,
in Bed, for a year or two,
And wont afford me any good,
he nothing at all would do.
I am in my blooming Prime,
dear Neighbours I tell you true,
I am lost to loose my Teeming Time,
yet nothing at all he'll do.
He says that I keep a Friend,
but what if I did keep two,
There's no one can me discommend,
for nothing, &c.
I make it full well appear,
to be both just and true,
I kept my Maiden-head Two Year,
for nothing at all he'd do.
Sometimes he'd give me a Kiss,
and I wou'd return him two,
But when he comes to farther Bliss
he nothing at all wou'd do.
I am a young Buxome Dame,
and fain would my Ioys renew,
But my poor Cuckold is to blame,
he nothing, &c.
He says I have him abus'd,
but what if this same be true?
For this I may be well excus'd,
since nothing, &c.
Sure never was Wife so fool'd
as I, for a year or two;
I did for him whate'er I could,
yet nothing, &c.
I feasted him e'ery day,
with Lamb-stones and Cock-broths too,
Yet all this Cost was thrown away,
he nothing, &c.
I feed him with Ielly of Chicks,
and curious Egg-Caudles too,
I'se good feed him with Fagget-sticks,
for nothing, &c.
He lyes like a lump of Clay,
such Husbands there is but few,
'Twould make a Woman run astray,
when nothing, &c.
Now now let him take his ease,
and sleep while the Skye looks blue,
I have a Friend my mind to please,
since nothing, &c.
Long, long, have I liv'd at strife,
I kick'd, and I cuff'd him too,
He's like to live no better Life,
since nothing at all he'll do.
I solemnly do declare,
believe me this is true,
He shall dig Gravel next Horn-Fair,
and that he is like to do.
Printed for P. Brooksby. J. Deacon. J. Blare. J. Back.