A Pleasant new Ballad you here may behold, How the Devil, though subde, was gulled by a Scold.  
To the tune of, The Seminary Priest.  

 

GIve ear, my loving Countrymen,  
that still desire news,  
Nor pass not while you hear it sung,  
or also the song peruse.  
For ere you hear it, I must tell  
my news, it is not common,  
But, I'll unfold a truth betwixt  
a Devil and a woman.   

Tom Thumb is not my subject,  
Whom Fairies oft did aid,  
Nor that mad spirit Robin  
that plagues both wife and maid,  
Nor is my song satyric like,  
invented against no man,  
But only of a prank betwixt  
a Devil and a woman.   

Then widows, wives and maids,  
give ear as well as men,  
And by this woman learn  
to gull the world again:  
You may by this turn artists,  
or masters of your Art,  
And when the Devil comes for you,  
you need not cars a fart.   

A woman well in years,  
lived with a husband kind,  
Who had a great desits  
to live content in mind.  
But 'twas a thing impossible  
to compass his desire,  
For night and day with scolding  
she did her husband tyre.   

With toughish, loutish clown,  
despite thee I'll be wild,  
Doast thou think I married thee  
to use thee like a child,  
And set thee on my lap,  
or humour what your speak?  
Before I'll be so fond,  
thy very heart I'll break.   

Why loving wife, quoth he,  
I'll never do thee wrong,  
So thou'lt be ruled by me,  
and only hold thy tongue,  
And when I come from work.  
wilt please at board and bed.  
Do this my loving wife,  
and take all being dead.   

Mark well quoth she, my words,  
what ere you speak me to,  
By fair means or by foul,  
the contrary I'll do.  
According to her speech,  
this man led such a life,  
That oft he wished the Devil  
to come and fetch his wife.   

Had he bid her go homely,  
why then she would go brave,  
Had he'caled her good wise.  
she called him rogue and slave:  
Bade he, wife go to Church,  
and take the fairest pew,  
she'd go unto an Alehouse,  
and drink, lie down and spew.   

The Devil being merry  
with laughing at this mirth,  
Would needs from hell come trotting  
to fetch her from the earth,  
And coming like a horse,  
to tell this man his mind,  
Saying, Set her but astride my back,  
I'll ●●rry her through the wind.    

The second part, To the same tune.  
 

Kind Devil quoth the man,  
if thou a while wilt wait,  
I'll bid her do that thing  
shall make her back thee strait.  
And here I'll make a vow,  
for all she is my wife,  
I'll never send for her again  
whilst I have breath or life.   

Content the Devil cried,  
then to his wife goes he,  
Good wife go lead that horse  
so black and fair you see.  
Go lea●e, sir knave, quoth she?  
and wherefore not go ride?  
She took the Devil by the reins,  
and up she goes affride.   

The Devil neighed loud,  
and threw his heels i'th' air,  
Kick in the Devil's name, quoth she,  
a shrew doth never fear.  
Away to hell he went.  
with this most wicked scold,  
But she did curb him with the bit,  
and would not lose her hold.   

The more he cried, Give way,  
the more she kept him in,  
And kick him so with both her heels,  
that both his sl●es were thin.  
Alight the Devil cried,  
and quick the bridle lose.  
No, I will ride (quoth she)  
whiles thou hast breath or shoes.   

Again she kicked and pricked,  
and sat so stiff and well,  
The Devil was not so plagued,  
a hundred years in hell.  
For pity light (quoth he)  
thou puttest me to much pain,  
I will not light (quoth she)  
till I come home again.   

The Devil showed her all  
the pains within that place,  
And told her that they were  
ordained for Scolds so base.  
Being bereft of breath,  
for scolding 'tis my due,  
But whilst I live on earth,  
I'll be revenged on you.   

Then did she draw her knife,  
and gave his ear a slit,  
The Devil never felt  
the like from mortal yet.  
So fearing further danger,  
he to his heels did take,  
And faster th●n he came,  
he post haste home did make.   

Here take her (quoth the Devil)  
to keep her here be bold,  
For hell will not be troubled  
with such an earthly scold.  
When I come home, I may  
to all my fellows tell,  
I lost my labour and my blood,  
to bring a scold to hell.   

The man half dead did stand,  
away the Devil bide.  
Then since the world nor hell  
can well a scold abide:  
To make a sail of ships  
let husbands fall to work,  
And give their free consent  
to send them to the Turk.   

Then honest wives and maids,  
and widows of each sort,  
Might live in peace and rest,  
and Silence keep her court.  
Nor would I have a scold  
one penny here bestow,  
But honest men and wives  
buy these before you go.   
FINIS.   

Printed at London for Henry Gosson dwelling upon London-Bridge near to the Gate.