r Cuckolds an absolute Cure.

_A_ SONG.

Good Neighbour why do you look awry,
You are a wond'rous Stranger;
You walk about, you huff and pout,
As if you'd burst with Anger:
Is it for that your Fortune's great,
Or you so Wealthy are?
Or live so high there's none a-nigh
That can with you compare?
But t'other Day I heard one say,
Your Husband durst not show his Ears,
But like a Lout does walk about,
So full of Sighs and Fears:
Good Mrs. _Tart_, I caren't a Fart,
For you nor all your Jears.

My Husband's known for to be one,
That is most Chast and pure;
And so would be continually,
But for such Jades as you are:
You wash, you lick, you smug, you trick,
You toss a twire a grin;
You nod and wink, and in his Drink,
You strive to draw him in:
You Lie you Punck, you're always Drunk,
And now you Scold and make a Strife,
And like a Whore you run o' th' Score,
And lead him a weary Life;
Tell me so again you dirty Quean,
And I'll pull you by the Quoif.

Go dress those Brats, those nasty Rats,
That have a Lear so drowzy;
With Vermin spread they look like Dead,
Good Faith they're always Lousie:
Pray hold you there, and do not swear,
You are not half so sweet;
You feed yours up with bit and sup,
And give them a dirty Teat:
My Girls, my Boys, my only Joys,
Are better fed and taught than yours;
You lie you Flirt, you look like Dirt,
And I'll kick you out of Doors;
A very good Jest, pray do your best,
And Faith I'll quit your Scores.

Go, go you are a nasty Bear,
Your Husband cannot bear it;
A nasty Quean as e'er was seen,
Your Neighbours all can swear it:
A fulsome Trot and good for nought,
Unless it be to chat;
You stole a Spoon out of the Room,
Last Christning you were at:
You lye you Bitch you've got the Itch,
Your Neighbours know you are not sound;
Look how you Claw with your nasty Paw,
And I'll fell you to the Ground;
You've tore my Hood, you shall make it good
If it cost me Forty Pound.

_The Jovial_ COBLER _of St._ Hellens.

[Music]

I am a jovial Cobler bold and brave,
And as for Employment enough I have:
For to keep jogging my Hammer and Awl,
_Whilst I sit Singing and Whistling in my Stall,_
_Stall, Stall, whilst I sit Singing and Whistling in my Stall._

But there's _Dick_ the Carman, and _Hodge_ who drives the Dray
For Sixteen, or Eighteen Pence a Day,
Slave in the Dirt, whilst I with my Awl,
_Get more Money, s