The discontened married Man. OR, A merry new Song that was penned in foul weather, Of a scold that could not keep her lips together.  

To the tune of, she cannot keep her &c.  
 
 

A young man lately wedded was  
To a fair and comely creature;  
She was a blithe and bonny lass  
As ere was framed by Nature.  
With rolling eye,  
And forehead high,  
And all good parts Nature could give her:  
But she had learned such a note,  
She could not keep her l. together.   

A lusty youth of Cupid's strain,  
That might the Queen of Love contented:  
Came unto her, her love to gain,  
And freely she her love consented.  
But to be short,  
In Cupid's Court,  
He usde her well when he came thither:  
And played his part in such an art,  
She could not, &c.   

When her Husband he heard tell  
Of her tricks with true relation,  
He complained to himself  
Very sadly in this fashion.  
Quoth he, I would give twenty pound,  
That's ten more than I had with her,  
Her mother would take her home again.  
And make her keep her, &c.   

Son be thou of patient mind,  
Let not thoughts thy fancies trouble:  
For I to thee will still prove kind.  
And her portion I will double.  
Time and age  
Will assuage,  
And the fairest flower will wither,  
And I such counsel will her give,  
Shall make her keep her l. together.   

Henceforth therefore I'll forsake her,  
And her mother shall her take:  
And for shame let her better make her.  
Or I again will never take her.  
Pure modeshy she doth defile,  
Besides she's fickle as the weather:  
And her scolding plainly shows,  
She cannot keep her l. together.   

Then I'll leave off to find another,  
Though't may add unto my lustre,  
For brave spacious England wide  
I am sure affords a cluster.  
Good and bad,  
Are to be had,  
Jove speed me well though long I tarry  
For ere that I'll have such a Mate,  
I never more intend to marry.    

The second part to the same tune.  
 

She is gone a wandering forth,  
Wanton wenches will be ranging  
With two gallants of great worth:  
Such as they affect a changing.  
She is bent  
To consent  
For to go she knows not whether  
They will teach her such a trick,  
She will not keep her l. together.   

To the dancing-school she goes,  
There she spends her hosbands' treasure,  
On each shoe she wears a Rose,  
For to show she's fit for pleasure.  
And resort,  
To Cupid's Court,  
And no sooner she comes thither,  
She learns so much of that same sport  
She cannot keep her l. together.   

To the Tavern she repairs,  
Whilst her husband sits and muses,  
There she dominéeres and swears,  
'tis a thing she often uses.  
And being fine  
She for wine,  
Will both pawn her hat and feather,  
Which doth show that it is true,  
She cannot keep her l. together.   

He's a coxcomb that doth grieve  
And knows not how to court this creature,  
For he may pin her to his sleeve,  
She is of so kind a nature.  
She will play  
Every way.  
And is as nimble as a feather  
But she will often go astray,  
She cannot keep her l. together.   

Thou that hast a wife that's civil,  
Love her well and make much of her,  
For a woman that is evil  
All the town thou seest will scoff her.  
Love thy wife  
As thy life  
Let her not go thou know'st not whither,  
For you will always live in strife,  
If she keep not her l. together.   

Maiden's fair have a care,  
Whom you love, and whom you marry,  
Love not those that jealous are  
Longer you had better tarry.  
For offence.  
Springs from hence,  
You will go you know not whether,  
Till you lose both wit and sense,  
And cannot keep your l. together.     

LONDON, Printed for Richard Harper in Smithfield.