A Crew of kind Gossips, all met to be merry: Complaining of their Husbands, with their Husband's answers in their own defence.  
Written, and newly enlarged by S. R.  
LONDON, Printed by W. W. for john Deane, and are to be sold at his shop at Temple-bar. 1613.   

To the Maids of London.  

virgin, that live your weary Mayden-lives,  
Wishing with all your hearts that you were Wives,  
Longing continually to hear it said,  
This is last time of Ask; farewell Maid.  
Note here your Sisters, that are gone before,  
What wholesome Gossips talk they have in store,  
Consider how their Husbands they abuse  
Amongst their Cups, to find each other news:  
Think whether there's not much discretion lacks,  
When men are wronged thus behind their backs.  
Observe this Conference, survey it all,  
And judge how kindest hearts are dealt withal,  
Which when you shall perceive (as 'tis most plain)  
When you are Wives, do you the like refrain:  
Abuse not Husbands at each Gossip's feast,  
When they (good harmless men) offend you least:  
For if with any fault you can them touch,  
It only is, their loving you too much.   
S. R.   

A Crew of kind Gossips, all m●tte to be merry.  

MY Masters that are Married, look about,  
For matter of Complaint is coming out  
Against your persons, stand upon your guard,  
Either your Wives be bad, or you deal hard:  
Your credits are in question very far,  
And now or never, either make or mar.  
You are accused of many heinous things,  
And swift Report hath very nimble wings▪  
It flies about the Town from ear to ear,  
And most will credit even all they hear.  
What will the world suppose, to have your Wives  
Give out, their Husbands live such odious lives?  
What will our Bachelors and Maidens say,  
That are preparing for their wedding day?  
Why, they will censure of the married life,  
To be a state full of Domestic strife.  
Stand to it stoutly, now as you are men,  
First hear them speak, and shape an answer then:  
They are no less than half a dozen strong,  
Armed with such Tongues as will endure no wrong:  
Six Gossips that of late together met,  
Besprinkled finely, well with Claret wet:  
Apt to discourse of all that ere they knew,  
As 'tis the humour of the Gossip-crew,  
Did find themselves greatly aggrieved all,  
 
The first of th●●, 〈…〉 me,  
With Tongue enough, and C●u●●ge to the same,  
That drank Carouses to the other five,  
And had a care to see the Vintner thrive:  
That had her Pint for Pint, her Quart for Quart,  
Loving a cup of Claret with her heart:  
That scorned to be entreated for her Drink,  
But would hold out, when twenty Wenches shrink;  
And take her Cups, even with a courage down,  
Play the Goodfellow kindly, spend her Crown  
With any she that durst, a merry Wife,  
That never played the Miser in her life:  
Only her Husband did a humour see,  
Which did not like him; she was too too free:  
And that (indeed) will not do very well,  
For divers reasons which a man might tell:  
But we will leave them to be thought upon,  
And turn her to her Tale; which thus goes on.   

The first Gossip's Complaint.  

KInd Gentlewomen, though I sport and jest,  
I have small cause to do it, I protest;  
If you knew all the Crosses Fortune brings,  
Ah little do you know where my shoe wrings▪  
I am oft merry, and I cannot choose,  
If one should hang me, pleasure I must use:  
Unto the Proverb I do still agree,  
Care kibed a Ca●, so shall it not me.  
Yet I am husbanded with such a Clown,  
'Twould pull a merrier heart than mine is, down:  
there's nothing in him, 'tis a very Gull,  
His mind's of Money-bags, to fill them full:  
There's nothing that comes from him with good will,  
But he is ever grudging, grumbling still:  
Let me but ask him somewhat for to spend  
At such a time as this, with Friend and Friend;  
His Purse will be a coming out so slow,  
And such a dogged look he will bestow,  
With mind unwilling going thereabout,  
I could spend thrice as much ere it comes out.  
Is this the way to please a woman's mind,  
That is unto good fellowship inclined?  
And never to this day regardeth dross,  
Sometime a Crown, and sometime ne'er a cross:  
To take allowance at a wretch's hand,  
Not having Gold and Silver at command.  
Whom doth he spare for, we no Children have?  
Indeed he doth allow me to go brave;  
But that's his credit, full as much as mine,  
And now and then at Meals a pint of wine:  
Marry sir Muff, yea, and Gra-mercy Horse,  
I will have more, by fair means, or by force:  
I scorn to take allowance like a Child,  
There's nothing got, when women be too mild.  
This by my Sister Sara prove I can,  
All London doth not yield a kinder man  
Than Thomas is; yet at the first I know,  
He did but use her (as they say) so so.  
But what did she? Marry, grew somewhat stout,  
And when he looked for kindness, louvre and pout,  
With Pish and Phew, no joy (poor soul) I have,  
I could now wish, that I were in my Grave;  
And sigh, and weep, and often eat no meat;  
And then the Ass (her Husband) would entreat,  
I prithee (sweetheart) what dost ail my dear?  
Why should this sorrow in thy looks appear?  
Dost thou want anything, I prithee speak?  
Then would she sigh, as if her heart would break,  
And make as though she wept, and rubbed her eyes,  
Till her kind fool in earnest sits and cries,  
Protesting to do aught that might her please:  
Then laying open to him her disease,  
She told him that her only grief of mind  
Proceeded from hard usage she did find:  
For other women (to her extreme care)  
Were full of Money, when her purse was bare.  
He hearing this, accounted it good hap,  
And threw a bag of Angels in her lap:  
Then took her by the hand, and (kissing) swore,  
While he had Coin, she should complain no more:  
So to this day, his honest word doth keep,  
Only because his Wife did sit and weep▪  
Now which of us will not almost do so,  
Our tears are cheap and plenty, you do know,  
For be it spoke in secret twixt us here,  
A penny for a pottle is too de●re.  
Well, I intent to try my Sister's trick;  
I'll first be sullen, after I'll be sick:  
And if one after tother will not do,  
I will be sullen, sick, and dogged too,  
And cha●e, and pout, and louvre, and fret, and sweat,  
And in a week not touch a bit of Meat:  
And when my Husband's tongue he still doth hold,  
Then I will be most apt to brawl and scold;  
But when he speaks, and would have me reply,  
I'll hold my peace, and (frowning) look awry.  
These are the Rules that I intent to keep,  
A Shro● is ten times better than a Sheep.    

The Husband's Answers in their own defence.  
The first Husband's Answer.  

THere is an ancient Proverb used of old,  
The first tale's good, until the next be told:  
A Liars tongue, i●tearmed Falsehoods mint,  
We have been slandered by our Wives in print,  
Yet have been silent it appears too long,  
The world may censure we have done them wrong,  
Because with silence it hath passed away.  
But Gentlemen, now give us leave, I pray  
To use Apology, and by no means  
Give credit to such cunning crafty Queans:  
For they have slandered us, upon our lives;  
The case may be your own, if you have wives:  
And therefore be not partially inclined,  
But hear the matter with indifferent mind.  
A Tavern for their parley they did choose,  
And there (forsooth) as prattling Gossips use,  
Like Cato's wife, they presently be led,  
To utter all that comes into their head.  
And first my jone, (a very prating Dame)  
Of sparing, and of hardness, doth me blame:  
She wanteth Money (as she says) to spend:  
Sirs, can a man get Coin unto that end?  
My Purse (she says) is slowly coming out,  
But her Hand is too nimble thereabout;  
she'll set it going, she can make it fly,  
And if I speak, she answers, What care I?  
I'll be maintained Gentlewoman like:  
Then bends her fist as if she meant to strike,  
That sometime I am glad to speak her fair  
For quietness: and 'tis an honest care,  
To have command, only by manly carriage,  
For I do know the civil wars of Marriage  
Too well, by divers of my Neighbours lives,  
That are o'ermatched in combat with their Wives;  
Blows therefore we do never put in ure,  
But a Shrew's tongue I daily do endure.  
Give me some Money; Money is her song,  
She loves to be a spending all day long.  
Householders judge, if all things be not dear,  
She g●● me not a Penny in a year,  
And pentes me pounds a week, yet still complains.  
That never taketh any other pains  
But st●●ch a Ruff, and sit and prick a clout,  
Then walk abroad; this work she goes about.  
Shall I maintain an idle housewife so?  
There's not an honest man but will say no.  
He that doth let his wife have what she will,  
Being a Fool, she'll keep him Woodcock still.  
No, I'll be Head, my title I'll not lose,  
she's well maintained, as all my Neighbours knows:  
Nay, I'll be sworn it makes my Purse-strings crack,  
To ruffle her in her pride, and gown her back:  
She hath six Gowns for wearing ne'er the worse,  
I would I had five of them in my purse:  
But 'tis her humour, and it must be thus;  
Pride pleaseth them, how ere it pincheth us:  
There's not a newfound toy, if once they crave it,  
Poor Husbands shall not rest until they have it.    

The Second Gossip's Complaint.  

NExt to the first, a second neat one sat,  
Which took a cup of Wine, & drank up that:  
Then filling it unto another, said,  
Ah, wish I could, that I were yet a Maid.  
We are so forward in our youth, you know,  
When past a dozen years we once do grow,  
We long, and wish, and look, and daily think  
For you know what, Cupid is meat and drink  
Unto our hungry thoughts, his praise we sing:  
Forsooth a Husband is your only thing.  
Poor foolish Girls, we know not what we do,  
But take a pride when Fellows come to woe,  
I'll tell you one thing, but no words I'll have,  
I know I speak it to the wise and grave:  
When I was Maid, with Chalk behind our door,  
Some five and forty Suitors I did score:  
And I would use the Fools alike (all kind)  
For which, continual favours I did find:  
I'll tell you truth, the Gloves which some did give,  
Are more than I can wear out while I live.  
Each was resolved, he did my love possess;  
For like a crafty quean (I must confess)  
I gave kind words, and smiles, and kisses too,  
And things that shallbe nameless I did do:  
Which shall be left to youth, 'tis gone and passed,  
I have not been the first, nor shall be last  
Of waggish Wenches: for when we are gone,  
There's little ones new bread, are growing on.  
But (in good sadness) I am plagued now  
For all my knavery, I'll tell you how.  
Of all my choice (for forty five was plenty)  
I took a Clown, the very worst of twenty,  
Indeed he doth allow me Coin at will,  
For to belve the Devil it is ill:  
But here's his fault, he'll cross me many a way,  
When I would have my humour, he says nay.  
Let me bid one do this, he says do that,  
My wife talks oftentimes she knows not what:  
Yea, when that many strangers are in place,  
he's not ashamed to offer this disgrace;  
For which, we two have often fall out,  
And sometimes at the ●●sts we have about.  
I care not greatly whosoe'er it know,  
If he strike me, I'll match him blow for blow;  
For though he be my head (as people talk)  
About his pate my fist sometimes doth walk;  
He shall have even as good as he doth bring,  
I will not die in's debt for any thing.  
Unto my parents I do seem the liker,  
For well ● wo●, my Mother was a striker:  
And I have seen her take my Father down,  
That he was even afraid to see her frown.  
He would sometime come wrangling in a door,  
But when my Mother with a cudgel swore,  
And said but to him, Richard shall I com●?  
Why present he had not a word but Mum.  
I noting this, unto myself would say,  
That same trick will I have another day:  
For if I meet with one that's like my Father,  
I'll take no blows, I'll see him hanged rather.  
Indeed I find my Husband but a bragger,  
His humour is, he will a little swagger,  
And seems as if he were Knight of the Sun.  
But let me stand to him, and he hath done.  
At first (indeed) he put me in a fear,  
When as I heard him but begin to swear:  
Then spoke I fair, and to him was right kind,  
Thinking to put him in a better mind,  
I tried him thus a while, but 'twas a wonder  
How he would domineer, and keeke me under.  
Nay then (quoth I) I'll try my Mother's trick,  
And valiantly took up a Faggot-sticke.  
(For he had given me a blow or twain)  
But as he likes it, let him strike again  
The blood ran down about his ears, apace,  
I broke his head, and all bescratched his face:  
Then got him down, and with my very fist  
I did bepommell him until he pissed.  
So from that hour unto this present day,  
He never ●●st begin another fray:  
But is content to let all fight cease,  
A Faggot-sticke hath bound him to the peace.    

The Second Husband's Answer.  

Masters, you hear my housewife wants her will,  
She tells her Gossips I do use her ill:  
And yet she doth confess that I am kind,  
In letting her have Money to her mind:  
Yet that's not all the Gentle woman's longing,  
There's other matters to her humours wronging.  
She would be Master to command in all,  
Do what she list; check me: ma●ry and shall.  
She says, I cross her; but she crosses me  
In my affairs, still busy she will be:  
I must yield her account whither I go,  
In every thing, Goodman why do you so?  
This likes not me, prithee let's have it thus,  
I scorn to see my neighbour put down us;  
We will have Plate as rich as they have any,  
And yet not be beholding for a penny.  
How like an Ass my foolish Husband goes?  
Buy me a Satin Doublet to them Hose.  
I can be well content with going plain,  
But that my wife is of another vain:  
She swears she will go brave, I shall maintain her,  
Or 'tis an argument I do disdain her;  
And that her only care to go so fine,  
Is but for credit both of hers and mine.  
Indeed by this my credit sure is tried,  
For I own Money to maintain her pride.  
With Mercer's Books I am acquainted still,  
And large I furnish out the Toylors' Bill.  
This is the only credit that I get,  
For Bravery to run myself in debt.  
And when I tell her private twixt us two,  
Wife let's be wise, these courses will not do,  
You do not go according to my purse,  
In Parish charges I shall speed the worse,  
We must be wise, if you far meaner went,  
It would best pleasepray, who should you content  
But me? Therefore go to your husband's mind,  
And I shall take it (Love) most wondrous kind.  
Oh on the sudden how she'll rage's and swear,  
That none in London base mind doth bear,  
she'll call me Gull, and sit her down and cry,  
Then out in terms, What cursed hap had I?  
Weary I am of this same wretched life,  
Wouldst thou have me go like an Oyster wife?  
Oh scurvy minded man, I even scorn thee,  
And could find in my heart base ●●aue to () thee.  
Goest thou about to offer this disgrace?  
I would that I had never known thy face;  
When first I saw thee, surely I was mad,  
For choice of fourteen proper men I had;  
Yea, even as handsome creatures to mine eye,  
As ere were girt in Girdles, ('tis no lie)  
And yet I left them all, to marry thee.  
What greater cross than this, could light on me,  
To have a Fellow grumbling at me still,  
And all I have, comes from him against his will:  
O wretch, O Job, who would be thus beclowned?  
I deserve better for two hundred pound.  
Two hundred pound in Gold my Father gave,  
To match me with this miserable Knave,  
Whom with my very heart I do disdain:  
Oh would my bargain were to make again,  
Then I would flaunt it, I would cut it out,  
And wiser, ere I leapt would look about:  
I would have none, but I would make him swear,  
That when I list, I might the Breeches wear:  
My Sister's life is happy, I may say,  
Her Husband dares not cross her any way,  
She says, in's life he never gave her check,  
But can have any thing even with a beck:  
And why not I attain the like degree,  
That am as proper (I am sure) as she?  
Nay, and a little fairer too, I know,  
Who sees both Faces, he will swear 'tis so,  
But well, within my head I have a trick,  
Some have their Foreheads swell that be not sick:  
I'll have my will to be maintained in all,  
And if one will not, than another shall.  
Masters, how like you this? judge I beseech,  
(On Monday last this was her very speech)  
Nay, and she stands unto it wondrous bold.  
The first tale's good, until the next be told,  
Upon my life, this is a woman's vain,  
To wrong her Husband first, and then complain.    

The Third Gossip's Complaint.  

WEll done in truth, yea, and gra-mercy Bess,  
Would I had part of thy brave valiantness;  
I lack it Wench, (in sadness) very much:  
For I have one all Hell affords none such,  
He useth me in all things as he list,  
Oh that I could but rule him with my fist,  
As thou dost thine: how happy should I be,  
If I had but a courage like to thee;  
It grieves me to the heart I cannot do it.  
Nature hath not enabled me unto it:  
I have as tall a tongue as others have,  
And can afford him Rascal, drunkard, knave,  
Gull, coxcomb, noddy, idiot, and ass,  
The veriest Calf that ever went to grass,  
Block-neaded buzzard, and a hundred like,  
But I could never have the heart to strike.  
If that I durst once venture for to beat him,  
As in mine anger I could even eat him,  
In conscience I might be his Master sure,  
If I the trial of it durst endure.  
Sometimes me thinks I could a cudgel take,  
But then my very heart gins to quake,  
For to myself my inward thoughts do speak,  
My husband is too strong, and I too weak:  
Which makes me often wish I had the power  
To make myself a man but half an hour,  
That so I might revenge myself awhile,  
I would be talked of many a hundred Mile  
For valour, I should make him tremble then,  
And be example unto other men.  
Oh I would teach my dom●●iering youth,  
To strike a woman while he lived, in truth.  
One time he came home drunk, and then thought I,  
Now for to cudgel him I will go try:  
His case was then so weak he could not stand,  
And I might easy get the upper hand:  
But I conceived 'twill turn unto my sorrow,  
The drunken fool would think upon't to morrow:  
And then I shall be sure to pay for all,  
I know the weakest must unto the wall.  
This made me very soa●efull to proceed,  
And for my life I durst not do the deed:  
But in his way I s●t a little Stool,  
And over that▪ down comes my reeling fool:  
That was to plague him somewhat for his sins,  
For I am sure it mortified his shins;  
And then I seemed to be exceeding sad▪  
Saying, dear Husband, what a fall you had?  
Give me your hand that I may help you rise;  
And took a Handkerchief, and wiped mine eyes,  
As if that I had wept for very grief,  
Being myself the causer of it chief:  
But of a troth (as you may well believe)  
I laughed most bravely at it in my sleeve.  
And then into a Chair I did him set,  
Ask him, if a Chirurgeon should be fet,  
And tying of a Kirchiefe 'bout his head,  
I left him fast a sleep and went to bed:  
All this I did to please in outward shows,  
Being my policy to scape from blows.  
But the next morning in his soberness,  
I rang his ears a peal, you'll hardly guess.  
Thou filthy beast (quoth I) hast thou no shame,  
To make thyself a common laughing game?  
Art thou a man thus to abuse thy Wife?  
Assuredly, 'tis pity of thy life.  
I sit all day even like a prisone● here,  
And thou comest home laden with Wine and Beer,  
And if I tell thee for thy good thereof,  
(Like all lewd Knaves) good counsel thou dost scoff.  
My tongue thou termest but a Serpent's sting:  
Thus doth the Devil, lead thee in a string,  
Thou hast no power good motions to embrace:  
Cam'st thou not home last night in scurvy case,  
Bleeding, and hurt, my sorrow to provoke?  
It were no matter if thy neck were broke.  
Thus did I rattle him, till Choler grew,  
And then he at my head a Cushion threw;  
Saying, there Scold, take somewhat for thy pains.  
Go too (quoth I) y'are best beat out my Brains  
With Cushions now, to make the Proverb true:  
Then outgoes he to meet the cursed crew,  
And to inquire who 'twas did hurt him so;  
But I'll keep that (my Wenches) close, I trow.    

The third Husband's Answer.  

BEware a Widow, Oh that I were free,  
Such mischief never more should light on me:  
I'll pawn my heart, yea even my dearest blood,  
Not one amongst five hundred that proves good.  
They are not kind, they cannot right be said,  
To have such pure affection as a Maid:  
I'll stand to it, and bring my Wife to swear it,  
And Bachelors believe it, you that hear it,  
Though I (till death do bail me) am fast bound,  
(Would 'twere tomorrow for five hundred pound)  
Yet by my harms, I would have you escape,  
That have a Devil in a Woman's shape:  
A Woman-divell, and a Divel-wife,  
That makes me weary of a Husband's life.  
I cannot speak with tongue, nor write with pen,  
The woeful state of such distressed men  
As I myself; yet somewhat may suffice,  
To paint her in this Paper to your eyes:  
That those which with such creatures would be doing,  
May by my Pattern, go to Hell a wooing.  
She is most impudent, and shameless bold,  
Since I was borne, I near heard such a Scold.  
When she is up, she rails me out of door,  
When I come in, she raileth ten times more:  
If I entreat her, she will swear and curse,  
If I say nothing, she grows worse and worse:  
I am as patiented as a man can be,  
When this vile woman thus tormenteth me.  
If I be hungry and demand some meat,  
she'll wish me choked with the next bit I eat,  
Then with a dogged countenance will say,  
Spite of my heart I shall her leisure stay.  
If I do reason mildly with her then,  
For every word I speak, she gives me ten,  
And tells me of her other husband's praise,  
With whom she lived all her happy days,  
That he would weep, even at her finger ache,  
And to content her any pains would take,  
He was the kindest loving man alive,  
And day and night to please his wife would strive:  
Then wishes in his grave with him she lay,  
Amen, think I, that were my happy day.  
For sure a man that's mach't with such a wife,  
Hath but two happy days in all his li●e▪  
The first of them's the day whereon they marry,  
For then the thing for which they long did tarry,  
With wishing and much expectation still,  
Is with great joy effected to their will.  
The second merry day we married have,  
Is when our wives are carried to their grave:  
For we are freed from former thraldom then,  
And shaking of the yoke, become free men.  
Then we may joy that we have got release,  
Attaining to a Bachelors sweet peace,  
When Serpent dies, adieu poison and sting?  
When my wife's gone, farewell venomous thing.  
But that's not like to be a long time yet,  
Death is too slow in challenging his debt,  
Such happiness to me it will not bring,  
She will live longer than a better thing.  
The other day a cunning prank she played,  
One of her Gossips she brought to persuade,  
That I should furnish her in haste to ride  
Unto a Gentlewoman, near allied  
Unto my wife; to see her being sick:  
I did it, but was couz●n'd by the trick,  
It was her Cousin as they both gave out;  
But su●e they kindred made of me, I doubt,  
I sent one after them to be my spy,  
An honest f●●●d I know, that will not lie:  
He says both Gentleman, and country Boor,  
Abroad report my Cousin is a Whore,  
And she hath gallants haunt her far and near:  
What should my wise and her consort do there?  
No goodness sure? a mischief take them both:  
To wear a pair of Ho●●es I would be loath.  
But who can help, the deed once being done,  
It is a thread so close with cunning spun,  
But Masters, keep it secret I do pray,  
Do not acquaint my wife with what I say:  
Hark in your ●are, If I can prove her so,  
I'll be divorced, and farewell all my woe:  
I do intend to let her have full scope,  
And then a Whore will prove a Whore I hope:  
Let her keep company with whom she list,  
Let her suppose mine eyes be dimmed with mist,  
Let her not care into what sin she sinks,  
I'll come upon her when she little thinks:  
And where she takes me for a silly Mome,  
For all her knavery, then I'll pay her home.    

The fourth Gossip's Complaint.  

WEll Gentlewomen (said the fourth) I see  
You have great reason to complain (all three)  
Upon your Husbands, they are bad indeed;  
But I have one (in conscience) doth exceed:  
The chiefest thing wherein he takes delight,  
Is to be up at Dice and Cards all night.  
He is a Gamester, though no Cock of game,  
For I do find he doth his business lame,  
In things (you know my meaning) scant worth praise,  
But fast and welcome, as a number says;  
all's one for that, my care hath ever been,  
Because he will not stay a nights within,  
But runneth still abroad from place to place,  
Wasting away his Money ●ewd and base:  
His Gamester's companies he'll not refuse,  
For all the mild behaviour I can use;  
Entreat him, kind dear Husband play no more,  
And speak him fair until my tongue before:  
Request him, if 〈…〉 love with Cards he be,  
That he would play at Noddy but with me:  
Or if he love the Tables so a life,  
Why then to play at Nublets with his wife.  
No, no, 'tis death unto him, out he must,  
To keep the Money in his purse from rust:  
Novum and Passage, scour his metal bright,  
Newcut even makes a Beggar of him right.  
Look, here's the best Apparel that I have,  
The very Wedding Gown my Father gave:  
He never gave me yet a pair of Gloves,  
I am beholding more to others loves  
Then unto him, in honest manner tho,  
And (Gossips) I beseech you take it so.  
There are kind Gentlemen, some two or three,  
And they indeed my loving Kinsmen be,  
Which will not see me want, I know it I,  
Two of them at my house in Term time li●,  
And comfort me with testes and odd device,  
When as my Husband's out a nights at Dice:  
For if I were without a merry Friend,  
I could not live a twelvemonth to an end:  
One of them gave me this same Ruff of Lawn,  
It cost three pound, but last week in the Pawn.  
Do y'thinkthink my Husband would have been so free?  
Alas he never made so much of me.  
Nay, other day at Church I spied a Hat,  
My mind and eye was never off from that,  
The only fashion to content alone;  
Yet think you he would buy me such a one,  
No, I prote●●, but when I made the motion;  
Oh wise (said he) pray where was your devotion?  
Go you to Church to find new fashions out?  
Is this the exercise you are about?  
In that same sacred place (ordained for Prayer)  
Are you so void of fear and de●out care?  
How now (quoth I) here's Vice will ●olly teach,  
Take in your Geese, the Fox gins to preach,  
What have we here: a mortified man?  
Is Dice and Cards become a puritan?  
Oh admirable change, I pray Newcut,  
Into what gracious humour are you put?  
And thus I fitted goodman counterfeit,  
For he had put me in a chafing heat,  
And surely being moved, I home can speak;  
Some wit I have, a Knavish jest to break.  
My husband he was hushed, and went his way,  
The Coxcomb Ass had not a word to say:  
But out a doors he got exceeding grim,  
'twas next day noon ere I set eyes on him.  
This man will talk full well, and speak of heaven,  
Yet leaves his loving wife at six and seven:  
Goes forth one day, and cometh home the next,  
To prove this lawful, sure he hath no text.  
Well, ere the week do end, I make no doubt,  
But we shall have another falling out,  
I'll cross him he was never better crossed,  
And put him in a heat against the frost  
For that same Hat, wherein he did me wrong,  
(As you know what it is when women long)  
He shall repent it (mark what I do say)  
Ten times within a twelve month and a day,  
I'll keep the rest of that I have intended,  
A little said (they say) is soon amended,  
But even as true as I was borne a Maid,  
I own him that good turn which shall be paid.    

The fourth Husbands Answer.  

MY prating Gossip must have answer next,  
I beyond reason with a Wife am vexed,  
At first a Beggar, once scarce worth a Louse,  
Whom I have made the Mist●is of my house:  
Even my Maid, a very Kitchen drudge,  
Of whose conditions I entreat you judge.  
Daily till ten a clock a bed she lies,  
And then against her Ladyship doth rise,  
Her Maid must make a Fire, and attend  
To make her ready, then for Wine she'll send,  
(A morning pint) she says her stomach's weak,  
And count▪ feits as if she could not speak,  
Until ele●en, or a little past;  
About which time, ever she breaks her fast:  
Then (very sullen) she will pout and louvre,  
And sit down by the Fire some half an hour.  
At twelve a clock her dinner time she keeps,  
Then gets into her Chair, and there she sleeps  
Perhaps till ●oure, or somewhat thereabout,  
And when that lazy humour is worn out,  
She calls her Dog, and takes him in her lap,  
Or falls a beating of her Maid (perhaps)  
Or hath a Gossip come to tell a tale,  
Or else at me she'll curse, and swear, and rail;  
Or walk a turn or two about the Hall,  
And so to supper and to bed; here's all  
The pains she takes: and yet I do abuse her,  
But no wise man I think, so kind would use her:  
I am a Fool to suffer that I do,  
Yet love and kindness leads me so thereto,  
I cannot choose but yield unto her still,  
This makes bad wives to have their will:  
And thus they grow from evil unto worse,  
Yet when I do intend another course,  
It will not be, she shows her cunning art,  
I over-comes my honest, true, kind heart:  
Sometimes her looks will carry such a sway,  
That for my life I cannot say her nay:  
Sometimes her teats do charm me in such wise,  
That I give credit to deceiving eyes.  
Sometimes her words in such great force do stand,  
I yeel ●to every thing she doth demand:  
And sometimes her outrageous madding fits,  
Makes me as mad as she, beside my wits.  
And where she says, I am a Gamester, sirs,  
'Tis but a villainous device of hers,  
That men should of this hard opinion be,  
If that we do not thrive, 'tis long of me.  
Believe it not, alas it doth appear,  
That I play scarce at Tables in a year:  
Dice I detest, and Cards as much I hate;  
Neither am I, as she says, out so late,  
As was reported when your Wives and she  
At Vintner's Hall, were making their tongues free.  
What is it that such tattling Gossips dare not?  
To wrong their husbands, nay (themselves) they care not;  
For rather than with silence they will sit,  
Against themselves they'll utter out their wit,  
As my Wife did in one complaint she made,  
About a Hat, that I to her denied,  
'Twas her devotion at the Church to spy it,  
And there continually (she says) she eyed it,  
With great affection, yet by me denied.  
Where were your thoughts, on Prayer, or else on Pride?  
This shows what follies they do entertain,  
And that their speeches (like themselves) be vain.  
All men that know▪ what creatures Women are,  
For ta●●ing of their wives do little care.  
'tis but a breath, even like Tobacco smoke,  
Which if they should not utter, they would choke.  
If they conceive a thing within their mind,  
(Although the substance of it be but wind)  
It must be vtt'ered forth, and have quick vent,  
Or with themselves they grow most disconteet.  
Well, I am further charged with untruth,  
By this my malcontented female youth,  
She says, I never gave her Gown: Oh lie,  
Who paid for that last week? belike not I:  
I give her Money still, and she buys Stuffe.  
But now I smell a Rat, I have enough;  
Belike some Gallants do their bounty show,  
And for her kindness, kindness they bestow:  
She traffickes with them, changing ware for ware,  
And so my Money in her Purse doth spare:  
It may be thus, and now I much suspect,  
Unto my Brows I'll have a more respect?  
I have been troubled much with Headache late,  
Something I fear doth swell about my pate:  
Most curiously I will observe the thing,  
If it do bud, as now 'tis toward the Spring,  
I will not be a Wittol and an Ass,  
But even next Summer turn my wife to grass.    

The fift Gossip's Complaint.  

Sure (quoth the fist) I do not mean to flatter,  
Were all such husbands hanged, it made no matter.  
I have a sound card for a woman's stay,  
he's durnke but once a week, that's ev'ry day.  
Oh 'tis the filthiest man I do protest,  
That ever was of giddy pate possessed:  
Himself all day in Taverns he bestows,  
And comes to bed at night in shoes and ●ose;  
And there he lies as cleanly as a Hog,  
Perfumed as sweet as any stinking Dog,  
With filthy leaves he smokes his head with all,  
Such Weeds as Indians do Tobacco call:  
But sure as Blackamoors look outward skin,  
So Collier-like are Englishmen within,  
That take such trash: for there be Doctors say,  
The memory of Man it doth decay,  
And poisoning the Brain, it makes it dull,  
When loathsome vapours fill each passage full.  
I am a woman, yet I'll undertake,  
The credit of this firework quite to shake,  
'Gainst any Maister-gunner of the trade,  
No reason in the world that can persuade  
Virtue remaineth in a little smoke,  
That to our senses doth offence provoke:  
Hold but your face where would a kindling lies,  
Apply the Medicine to your nose and eyes,  
Into your mouth let it have passage free,  
And note how welcome this same stuff will be.  
Fie, out upon't, it makes a filthy smell,  
My nose likes a Sir-reverence as well:  
I think a thousand times I do complain,  
And tell my husband that he should refrain  
This making of a Chimney of his nose:  
He had a breath as sweet as any Rose,  
Before he used this same scurny trick,  
But now if I do kiss him I am sick,  
With this same fight; beshrew your heart say I,  
Tobacco stinks, you poison me, I die.  
Then what does he, but says, Go hang thee Quean,  
This wholesome Physic keeps my body clean,  
I'll take it for to anger thee withal:  
Then for a Candle and a Pipe he'll call:  
A Trencher Whore, let there a Rush be got,  
Some Paper, make the Fire-shovel hot,  
A Knife, some Match, and reach a little Wire,  
A Tinderbox, fetch me a coal of Fire.  
Why here's a stir, what woman can endure it?  
And yet this life I have (Gossips) assure it,  
But now and then I fit him in his kind,  
When any smoky stuff of his I find:  
For when I meet with his Tobacco Box,  
I send it to the Privy with a Pox.  
Then he'll go raging up and down, and swear,  
He misseth such most rare and wholesome gear,  
The like did never grow on India ground,  
And every Ounce for goodness worth a pound.  
Thus doth he live, and make a daily course  
To smoke himself, keeping an empty Purse,  
With Beer, Wine, and Tobacco; what cares he,  
Sink I, or swim, it matters not for me.  
Is this a life, judge Gossips, judge I pray?  
My discontent succeed day by day.  
When first I married with this drunken drone,  
I was a p●ope● wench it is well known:  
And though I say'● that should not, one or other,  
In all our parish was not such another,  
I did refuse as handsome men and wise,  
As ever girdle girt, let that suffice.  
And if good fortune I had not withstood,  
I might in Conscience sure have worn a ●ood.  
My husband had as much with me (that Curie)  
As Mysteries Susan's husband had with her:  
Besides I know all you that are in place,  
Will judge that I have far a better ●ace,  
More proper body, and for hand and foot  
I'll put her down, and give her legs to boot:  
Yet notwithstanding my good pa●ts, you see  
How Ladylike she is maintained to me.  
But well, if I prove widow ere I die,  
It shall go hard but I will look as high.    

The fi●t Husbands Answer.  

here's a brave world indeed if this gear hold,  
When honest men by sluts are thus controlled:  
In absence, to have credit overthrown,  
And we made Gulls for them to play upon,  
Shall we endure it, and be made fools still:  
No, I'll curb mine, upon my life I will,  
And keep her somewhat shorter in a door,  
A Tavern tell-tale she shall be no more.  
Neighbours, I think you know me, all are here,  
Although I love a Cup of Wine or Beer:  
And as goodfellow, sometime trade therewith,  
Yet did you never see me Smug the Smith:  
Did any of you ever know me reel?  
Or in a storm of Wine turn up the heel?  
In all your lives did any see me so,  
That with these pair of Legs I could not go?  
Pray speak my Masters, for I may mistake▪  
A man will venture much for good Wines sake▪  
But if I have been sometimes overjoyed,  
In calling for too much by other pot;  
Shall my wife chatter till her tongue be weary,  
And term me Drunkard, when I am but merry?  
Will any loving wise be so unkind?  
Or doth not duty and good manners bind  
A woman to forbear, to wink, and hide,  
And not to rail, to slander and to chide,  
She might have laid in private certainly,  
Husband, last night you sung a pot too high,  
Or my dear love, pray thee where hast thou been?  
In truth (Sweet heart) you are a little in.  
All this were well, indifferent to be borne:  
But shall she lay me open (as in scorn)  
To her companions scoffing at me so,  
As if I daily could not stand nor go?  
She terms me Sound card for a woman's stay,  
Drunk once a week, and that is every day.  
The filthiest Drunkard (thus she doth protest)  
That ever was of giddy brain possessed.  
And further, to the world she doth disclose,  
That I come into bed in shoes and hose:  
And horrible Tobacco do so drink,  
That she is almost poisoned with the stink.  
Well, this is good, but mark the end at last,  
In a new mould this woman I will cast,  
Her tongue in other order I will keep,  
Better she had been in her bed asleep,  
Then in a Tavern, when those words she spoke:  
A little pains with her I mean to take:  
For she shall find me in another tune,  
Between this February and next june:  
In sober sadness I do speak it now,  
And to you all I make a solemn vow,  
The chiefest Art I have I will bestow,  
About a work called taming of the Shrew.  
It makes my heart to fret, my looks to frown,  
That we should let our wives thus put us down.  
But for mine own part I have now decreed,  
To do a good and charitable deed.  
If she begin her former course a fresh,  
I have a trick to mortify her flesh:  
Unto you all example I will give,  
Perhaps you'll thank me for it while you live  
But for yourselves, to nothing I'll persuade,  
Because the blame on me shall not be laid:  
Other men's wives I mean to let alone,  
I shall have work enough to tame mine own.    

The sixth Gossip's Complaint.  

FRiends (quoth the sixth) each hath revealed her grief,  
Yet give me leave to think that mine is chief:  
Would with your worst I might a Husband change  
Sure I would think my hap less hard and strange.  
Your five in deed are bad, I must confess,  
But mine is even the worst of all the mess:  
All yours may be endured, but 'tis a hell,  
When men do love their neighbour's wives too well.  
Think that I do not speak it of ●ll will,  
(As true as this is Wine I mean to fill)  
Not out of jealousy, take it not so,  
Into that humour I did never grow:  
I speak it Gossips (first I'll drink) do y'hearhear?  
E●'n from the wrongs that I do know I bear.  
My Husband's lewd, given to go astray,  
His love to me now daily doth decay;  
Quite altered from the man that he hath been,  
Even given over to the fleshly sin.  
There's not a Whore in London, nor about,  
But he hath all the haunts to find her out.  
He knows the Panders that can fit his turn,  
And Bawds that help good follows to the burn:  
Tassitie Queans, and fine light silken Whores,  
That have the gif● of Pox in their own powers,  
And can teach Fre●ch in half a day by noon,  
As lecherous as a Monkey or Baboon:  
That daily go like Ladies in attire,  
And live by hackning out themselves to hire;  
More common rid, re rid, and ridden over,  
Then any ●ade betwixt Grat●esend and Dover:  
And let me ask, what's such a one, or she  
With ●aune and Mask? His Cousins all they be.  
What's she that hath the jewel in her hair,  
And on her back the Cobweb-lawn, most rare,  
Having a Vintner's bush upon her head,  
All trimmed with Shoo strings tawny, green, and red?  
Whose ●an weighs more, tried only by the ●eather,  
Then all her honest tricks, being joined together?  
Forsooth his Cousin, she's most near of kin,  
This lying humou● he is ever in.  
He hath all that to villainy belongs,  
The hugest number of such bawdy Songs,  
You even would wonder (Gossips, this is plain)  
That any man could bear them in his brain.  
He hath a Song called, M●stris will you do?  
And, My man Thomas did me promise too,  
He hath the Pinnace, rigged with silken sail,  
And pretty Birds, with Garden Nightingale,  
I'll tie my Mare in thy ground a new way,  
Worse than the Players sing it in the Play:  
Bess for abuses, and number more,  
That you and I have never heard before.  
And these among those Wenches he doth learn,  
Which by activity their livings earn.  
His Crowns upon them frankly he bestows,  
Not caring for his wife, or how she goes:  
L●t me complain for any kind of Stuffe,  
What answers he? Thy clothes are good enough,  
I like thee well, and should if thou wentest worse.  
These are his cogging tricks to save his Purse,  
So he me may spare to spend it upon me,  
He never doth regard on whom it be.  
Let me but walk with him along the steeete,  
'tis wonderful how many he doth meet  
That do salute him, looking all like Queans;  
But then he'll scarcely speak by any means,  
Only he winks on them, and pass●s by,  
Making account, The blind eats many a Fly.  
But I can smell the knavery of him out,  
And very shortly (I do make no doubt)  
To take him napping, I have laid a plot  
Shall cool the Gentleman is grown so hot.  
I ●ay no more, there's somewhat in the wind,  
The Cat o●t winks, and yet she is not blind.  
All friends, no wo●des, be merry: come who drinks?  
Little our Goodmen knows what their wives thinks.  
Let's point a time when we shall meet again,  
And she that ●ayles, we will enjoin this pain,  
Five Shillings spent in Wine, Gossips pawn down;  
And to give good example, there's my Crown.    

The sixth Husband's Answer.  

Friends to conclude, believe my word in this,  
No kind of Cross like a bad Woman is:  
I know your hands are full, Neighbours 'tis true,  
And I myself make one as well as you;  
I share in Shrew indifferently well,  
One that doth make my House resemble Hell:  
Because her devilish nature is so bad,  
No quietness can at her hands be had.  
Will you believe me? Sirs I will not lie,  
She hath the most accursed jealous eye  
That ever I have known, or ever shall:  
And I perceive, that here's none of you all  
Equal with me, for wicked woman's flesh;  
Sh●e'le rail all day, at night begin a fresh,  
And with that tune into her Bed she lies,  
Scouldes in her sleep, and scouldes when she doth rise.  
And why is this think you? Marry I'll tell,  
She says, I love my neighbour's Wives too well;  
But i● I were this instant hour to die,  
I'll take it on my death, that she doth lie.  
Sometimes I ask my neighbours how they do,  
Give them a Pint (perhaps) and kiss them too:  
Why what of this? and if a man do so,  
May't not be done, and yet no evil grow;  
Kindness may lead a man unto kind carriage,  
And yet he may be constant in his marriage;  
But for my Wife I do not care a Pin,  
What scurvy mind soever she be in,  
To slander me with Whores; my credit's known,  
She hath a lying tongue (friends) of her own,  
To say that I bad Houses do frequent,  
And there on Common Whores my love is spent.  
I never was in Ba●dy house but twice,  
And there indeed a friend did me entice  
To see some fashions; only there we drank,  
And saw a gallant Quean, her name was Frank,  
In a Silk Gown, lose bodied, so was she:  
Not that I tried her, but as they told me:  
She gave us good Tobacco, sweet, and strong,  
And of mee●e kindness sung a bawdy Song.  
This I protest was even all we did,  
Yet (Oh) when I came home, how I was chid:  
Some Rascal told my Wife, that ought me spite,  
And I was villained for it ●ound at night:  
And ever since, if any strife arise,  
She asketh me where Mistress Francis lies:  
Calls her my Whore, and says that I and she,  
Both of a hair and of a humour be.  
But well, it skills not; let her talk and spare not,  
I have set down my rest, in troth I care not:  
I see it is no wisdom any way,  
To storm in mind at that which women say:  
Their Mouths cannot contain their Tongues within;  
For when they're Maid 〈…〉 wedlock they begin,  
At every meeting, than they do discover  
The disposition of each kind of Lover.  
jone hath a proper handsome Man in truth,  
But Judith's is not half so kind a youth:  
Nan knows not what a jewel she hath got;  
But Dorothies' sweetheart, I like him not,  
Thus being Maids, they do their lovers use,  
And being Wives, their Husbands they abuse:  
Therefore in this case, let us be content,  
'tis now too late our Bargains to repent:  
But let us hope they'll shortly to their Grave,  
And then we quiet lives a piece shall have:  
And he to whom kind Death this freedom gives,  
Let him take heed of wi●ing while he lives.    
The end of the Six Gossips, and their Husbands.   

The Censure of the Bachelor and the Maid, upon the former Complaints.  bachelor. 

GOod sister Maid 〈…〉 amazed in mind,  
To hear that married Wives deal thus unkind  
Against their Husbands, when the Gossips meet:  
Me thinks to live still bachelor is sweet,  
For what I read here of their jarring strife,  
Makes me afraid to enter married life.   Maid. 

Friend bachelor, I do not blame your care,  
But do confess ti's fit you should beware  
How you do match yourself unto a Shrew;  
For there's too many of that kind, I know:  
But seeing Men in wit put Women down,  
And there be civil Wenches in the town;  
Me thinks a wiseman may embrace the one,  
And let the Gossips with long tongues alone.   bachelor. 

Wench, thou sayest true; but how can we do this,  
When such false shows with womankind there is?  
Still humour them, and have most sweet behaviour:  
But cross their follies, worse than Gall they ●auour.  
Why thou thyself (I speak it to thy praise)  
Art a kind creature, all that know thee says;  
Yet is it doubtful, when thou'rt once a Wife,  
How with a Husband thou wilt lead thy life.   Maid. 

Brother, 'tis true; but is't not so with you,  
That are of this same smoth-face civil crew?  
love's in your lips, your eyes, your smiles, your tongue;  
And yet all this, from cunning may be sprung:  
As you of us, so we of you, make doubt;  
But both must venture, ear we find it out,  
And marry for it: But choose Maiden love,  
For widows always pra●ing Gossips prove,  
Upon their former Marriage, bold they bear them.  
In truth we Maids are oft ashamed to hear them:  
But I will cease and end with blushing fears,  
Lest I do bring them all about mine ears;  
For some of them will swagger worse than Men:  
So farewell Brother, till we meet again.   bachelor. 

Thanks gentle Sister, thou hast taught me wit,  
I'll near have Widow, here's my hand on it:  
Let's get goodwill of Father and of Mother,  
And then we'll marry, and go try each other.   
FINIS.