Humour, Wit, and Satire of the Seventeenth Century

The Cruell Shrow: 155 or The Patient Mans Woe

Declaring the misery, and the great paine

By his unquiet wife he doth dayly sustaine.

To the Tune of Cuckolds all arowe.

[90.]Come Batchelors and Married Men,

and listen to my Song;

And I will shew you plainely then,

the injury and wrong

That constantly I doe sustaine,

by the unhappy life,

The which does put me to great paine,

by my unquiet Wife.

Shee never linnes¹⁵⁶ her bauling,

her tongue it so loud,

But alwaies shee'l be railing,

and will not be contrould;

For she the Briches still will weare,

although it breedes my strife,

If I were now a Batchelor,

I'de never have a Wife.

Sometime I goe i' th' morning

about my dayly worke,

My wife she will be snorting,

and in her bed she'le lurke;

Untill the Chimes doe goe at Eight,

then she'le begin to wake,

Her mornings draught well spiced straight,

to cleare her eyes she'le take.

As soon as shee is out of bed,

her Looking Glass she takes,

So vainely is she dayly led,

her mornings worke she makes;

In putting on her brave atyre,

that fine and costly be,

Whilst I worke hard in durt and mire,

alacke what remedy.

Then she goes forth a Gossiping,

amongst her own Comrades,

And then she falls a bowsing¹⁵⁷

with her merry blades:

When I come from my labour hard,

then shee'le begin to scould,

And calls me Rogue without regard,

which makes my heart full cold.

When I for quietnesse sake desire,

my wife for to be still;

She will not grant what I require,

but sweares shee'le have her will;

Then if I chance to heave my hand,

straightway she'le murder cry;

Then judge all Men that here do stand

in what a Case am I.

And if a Friend by chance me call,

to drinke a pot of Beere;

Then she'le begin to curse and brall,

and fight and scratch and teare:

And sweares unto my worke she'le send

me straight without delay,

Or else with the same Cudgels end,

shee will me soundly pay.

And if I chance to sit at meate

upon some holy day,

She is so sullen she will not eate,

but vexe me ever and aye:

She'le pout, and loure, and curse and bann,

this is the weary life,

That I do leade, poore harmlesse man,

with my most dogged wife.

Then is not this a pitteous Cause,

let all men now it trie,

And give their verdits by the Lawes,

betweene my wife and I:

And judge the Cause who is to blame,

Ile to their Judgement stand,

And be contented with the same

and put thereto my hand.

If I abroad goe any where,

my businesse for to doe,

Then will my Wife anone be there,

for to encrease my woe;

Straightway she such a noise will make,

with her most wicked tongue,

That all her Mates her part to take,

about me soon will thronge.

Thus am I now tormented still,

with my most wicked Wife,

All through her wicked tongue so ill

I am weary of my life:

I know not truely what to doe,

nor how myselfe to mend:

This lingring life doth breede my woe,

I would 'twere at an ende.

O that some harmlesse honest man,

whom Death did so befriend,

To take his Wife from of his hand,

his sorrowes for to end:

Would change with me to rid my care,

and take my Wife alive,

For his dead Wife unto his share,

then I would hope to thrive.

But so it likely will not be,

that is the worst of all,

For to encrease my dayly woe

and for to breed my fall:

My wife is still most froward bent,

such is my lucklesse fate,

There is no man will be content,

with my unhappy state.

Thus to conclude and made an ende

of these my Verses rude,

I pray all wives for to amende,

and with peace to be endude:

Take warning all men by the life

that I sustained long,

Be carefull how you chuse a Wife,

and so Ile ende my Song.

FINIS.

Arthur Halliarg.¹⁵⁸

London. Printed by M. P. for Henry Gosson¹⁵⁹ on London Bridge neere the Gate.

¹⁵⁵ For tune, see Appendix.

¹⁵⁶ Ceases, or leaves off.

¹⁵⁷ Drinking.

¹⁵⁸ This ballad is supposed to be unique, and is the only known work of Halliarg, who is not mentioned by Hazlitt.

¹⁵⁹ The date of this ballad in the Museum Catalogue is 1610 (?).

[91.] A Bishop on a time examining one that sought to be admitted into the ministery, asked him how many Sacraments there were; to which question, he, after long pause, answered there were 9; Nine, quoth he, how prove you that? Why, quoth hee, there are 7 beyond sea, and two in England; at which the B. laughing at his ignorance, yet grieved for his folly, sent him away as worthily frustrate of his expectation.

[4.] A Man being ask'd whether his friend Tom, that was lately dead, had left him any Legacy? No, faith, says he, Not a Tester to drink his health.

[26.] In the Wars in Germany, between the Swedes and them, there was so great a Frost one Winter, that Two Men desiring to talk with one another, and one was on one side of the River, and t'other on the other, and as they spoke one to another, the Frost was so great, that it froze¹⁶⁰ up their words, which was not audible then, nor indeed (upon my reputation) could not be heard till Nine days after, when it chanc'd to thaw: which one of the company hearing said 'twas a brave Country to speak Treason in; for whatsoever a Man said, a Man could not be heard; Nay, the very lowings of the Bulls and Cows were froz'n up also, that the owners had much ado to find them to fodder them, for want of hearing them as formerly. Nay, by your favour, says another, there is another Country, which had as great a Conveniency to speak Treason in as that had, from 1648 to 1660, and there one might speak any sort of Treason, and was never call'd to an account for it: Nay, the more Treason they spoke, they were the better esteem'd; so that there was no need of a frost at that time in England.

¹⁶⁰ A somewhat similar story may be found previously, in Rabelais, and some sixty years subsequently, in Baron Munchausen.

[52.] There was a notable drunkard of Rochester, whom his wife perswaded as much as in her lay, to leave that Sinne; but the more she spake the worse he was, and because she controuled him, he would all to beat her, So she let him alone; and because his use was still to stay out till almost midnight, she went to bed, and bad her Maid tary up for him, and make a good fire: and the maid did as her Mistresse commanded. One night when he came home the Maid let him in, and he stood by the fire and warmed himself; but his head being too heavy for his body, down he fell into the fire along. The Maid ranne crying, Oh Mistresse, Mistresse, my Master is falne into the fire. No Matter, Maid (quoth she) let him take his pleasure in his owne house, where he will himselfe.

[4.]A Gentleman not richest in discretion,

Was alwayes sending for his own phisition.

And on a time he needs would of him know,

What was the cause his pulse did go so slow?

Why (quoth the Doctor) thus it comes to passe,

Must needs go slow, which goes upon an asse.

[82.] An unhappy boy that kept his father's sheepe in the country, did use to carry a paire¹⁶¹ of Cards in his pocket, and meeting with boyes as good as himselfe would fall to Cards at the Cambrian game of whip-her-ginny,¹⁶² or English one and thirty; at which sport, hee would some dayes lose a sheepe or two: for which if his father corrected him, hee (in revenge) would drive the sheepe home at night over a narrow bridge, where some of them falling besides the bridge, were drowned in the swift brooke. The old man being wearied with his ungracious dealing, complained to a Justice, thinking to affright him from doing any more the like. In briefe, before the Justice the youth was brought, where (using small reverence, and lesse manners) the Justice said to him, Sirrah, you are a notable villaine, you play at Cards, and lose your father's sheepe at one and thirty. The Boy replied that it was a lye. A lye, quoth the Justice, you saucy knave, dost thou give me the lye? No, qd the boy, I gave thee not the lye, but you told me the lye, for I never lost sheepe at one and thirty; for when my game was one and thirty I alwayes wonne. Indeed, said the Justice thou saist true, but I have another accusation against thee, which is, that you drive your fathers sheepe over a narrow bridge where some of them are oftentimes drowned: That's a lye too, quoth the boy, for those that go over the bridge are well enough, it is onely those that fall beside which are drowned: Whereto the Justice said to the boys father, Old man, thou hast brought in two false accusations against thy sonne for he never lost sheepe at one and thirty, nor were there ever any drowned that went over the bridge.

¹⁶¹ A pack.

¹⁶² The same author mentions this game again in "Taylors Motto," as also many other games then in vogue, the names of which are curious—

"The Prodigall's estate, like to a flux,

The Mercer, Draper, and the Silk man sucks;

The Taylor, Millainer, Dogs, Drabs and Dice,

Trey trip or Passage, or the Most at thrice;

At Irish, Tick tacke, Doublets, Draughts or Chesse,

He flings his money free with carelessnesse:

At Novum, Mumchance, mischance (chuse ye which)

At One and Thirty, or at Poore and rich,

Ruffe, flam, Trump, noddy, whisk, hole, Sant, New Cut,

Unto the keeping of foure Knaves he'l put

His whole estate at Loadum, or at Gleeke,

At Tickle me quickly, he's a merry Greeke,

At Primefisto, Post and payre, Primero,

Maw, Whip-her-ginny, he's a lib'rall Hero;

At My-sow-pigg'd: and (Reader never doubt ye,

He's skill'd in all games except) Looke about ye.

Bowles, shove-groate, tennis, no game comes amiss,

His purse a purse for any body is."