Humour wit Satire of the Seventeenth Century 34

Humour wit Satire of the Seventeenth Century 34

A Western Lady was very Hospitable to many Gentlemen, and it

happened a Knight came thither; and being a great House-wife, early in

the Morning she called to her maids, and ask'd whether the Pigs were

served; which the Knight hearing, said before the Gentlewoman at

dinner, Madam are the Pigs served? Sir, says she, _I know not whether

you have had your breakfast yea or no_.

 

 

My love and I for kisses play'd [5.]

She would keep stakes, I was content,

And when I wonne, she would be payd;

This made me aske her what she meant,

Sayth she, since you are in this wrangling vaine,

Take you your kisses, and give me mine againe.

 

 

_On a farmer knighted._

 

In my conceit Sir _John_, you were to blame, [5.]

To make a quiet good wife, a mad dame.

 

 

[26.] Some Gentlemen were sitting at a Coffee-house together, one was

asking what News there was? T'other told him, There was forty thousand

Men rose to day, which made them all stare about, and asked him to

what end they rose, and what did they intend? Why faith, says he, only

to go to bed at Night again.

 

 

_Of Milo the Glutton._

 

_Milo_ with haste to cram his greedy gut, [6.]

One of his thumbs into the bone had cut.

Then straight, it noysed was about by some,

That he had lost his stomacke with his thumbe.

To which one said. No worse hap fall unto him,

But, if a poore man finde it, 'twill undo him.

 

 

[18.] A Person of Quality owed a Gentleman a Thousand Pounds. Meeting

together in a fair Road, where both their Coaches went a good rate;

the first looking out of the Coach called to the Gentleman, and begged

a thousand Excuses. _And I beg_, said the Gentleman presently, _a

thousand Pounds._

 

 

A Pleasant new Ballad you here may behold,

How the Devill, though subtle, was guld by a Scold.

 

To the Tune of _The Seminary Priest_.

 

[Illustration]

 

Give eare my loving Country-men [31.]

that still desire newes,

Nor passe not while you heare it sung,

or else the song peruse:

For ere you heare it, I must tell

my newes, it is not common,

But Ile unfold a trueth betwixt

a Devill and a woman.

 

_Tom Thumb_ is not my subiect,

whom Fairies oft did aide,

Nor that mad spirit _Robin_

that plagues both wife and maid

Nor is my song satyricke like,

invented against no man,

But onely of a pranke betwixt

a Devill and a woman.

 

* * * * *

 

A woman well in yeares

liv'd with a husband kinde

Who had a great desire

to live content in minde,

But twas a thing impossible

to compasse his desire

For night and day with scolding

she did her husband tire.

 

With roughish, lowtish clowne,

despight thee Ile be wilde,

Doest thou think I marryed thee

to use thee like a childe,

And set thee on my lap,

or humour what you speake?

Before Ile be so fond,

thy very heart Ile breake.

 

Why, loving wife, quoth he,

Ile never doe thee wrong,

So thoul't be rul'd by me,

and onely hold thy tongue.

And when I come from worke,

wilt please at board and bed;

Doe this my loving wife

and take all being dead.

 

Marke well, quoth she, my words

what ere you speak me to,

By faire meanes or by foule,

the contrary Ile doe.

According to her speech,

this man led such a life,

That oft he wish't the Devill

to come and fetch his wife.

 

Had he bid her goe homely,

why then she would goe brave,

Had he cal'd her good wife,

she cal'd him rogue and slave;

Bade he, wife goe to Church,

and take the fairest pew,

Shee'd goe unto an Alehouse,

and drinke, lye downe and spew.

 

The Devill being merry

with laughing at this mirth,

Would needs from hell come trotting,

to fetch her from the earth;

And coming like a horse,

did tell this man his minde,

Saying, Set her but astride my backe,

Ile hurry her through the winde.

 

Kinde Devill quoth the man,

if thou a while will wait,

Ile bid her doe that thing

shall make her backe thee straight

And here Ile make a vow

for all she is my wife,

Ile never send for her againe

whilest I have breath or life.

 

Content, the Devill cry'd,

then to his wife goes he

Good wife, goe lead that horse

so black and fair you see.

Goe leade, sir Knave, quoth she

and wherefore not goe ride?

She took the Devill by the reines,

and up she goes astride.

 

The Devill neighed lowd,

and threw his heeles i' th' ayre,

Kick, in the Devill's name, quoth she,

a shrew doth never fear.

Away to hell he went,

with this most wicked scold,

But she did curbe him with the bit,

and would not loose her hold.

 

The more he cry'd, Give way,

the more she kept him in,

And kickt him so with both her heeles,

that both his sides were thin.

Alight, the Devill cry'd,

and quick the bridle loose,

No I will ride (quoth she)

whiles thou hast breath or shooes.

 

Again she kickt and prickt,

and sate so stiffe and well,

The Devill was not so plagu'd

a hundred years in hell.

For pitty light (quoth he)

thou put'st me to much paine,

I will not light, (quoth she)

till I come home againe.

 

The Devill shewed her all

the paines within that place,

And told her that they were

ordain'd for Scolds so base.

Being bereft of breath,