The Woman to the Blow AND The Man to the Hen-Roost. OR, a fine way to cure a Cotquean,  
The Tune is, I have for all good wives a Song.  
 
BOth Men and Women listen well,  
A merry jest I will you tell,  
Betwixt a Good man and his Wif●,  
Who fell the other day at strife:  
He chid her for her Huswivery,  
And she found fault as well as he.  
With him for'rs work without the doors,  
Quoth he, a pox on all such whores,  
Sith you and I cannot agree,  
Let's change our work, content, quoth she,  
My Wheel and Distaff here take thou,  
And I will drive the Cart and Blow.  
This was concluded 'twixt them both,  
To Cart and Blow the goodwife goeth  
The goodman he at home doth tarry,  
To see that nothing doth miscarry,  
An apron he before him put,  
judge was not this a handsome slut.  
He fleets the Milk, he makes the Cheese  
He gropes the Hens the ducks & Geese,  
He Brew● and Bakes as well as he can,  
But not as it should be done, poor man:  
As did make his Cheese one day,  
Two Pigs their Bellies broke with whey,  
Nothing that he in hand did take,  
Did come to good, once he did Bake,  
And burned the Bread as black as a stock  
Another time he went to R●ck  
The Cradle, an● threw the Chi●d o'th' floor  
And broke his Nose, and hurt it sore.  
He went to milk one Evening ●ide,  
A Skittish Cow on the wrong side,  
His pail was full of milk God wot,  
She kict and spilt it every jot,  
Besides she hit him a blost o'th' face  
Which was scant well in six week's space,  
Thus was he served, and yet to well  
And more mischances yet befell,  
Before his apron he'd leave off,  
Though all his Neighbours did him scoff,  
Now list and mark one pretty jest,  
'Twill make you laugh above all the rest,  
As he to churm his Butter went,  
One Morning with a good intent,  
The Cotquean fool did surely dream,  
For he had quite forgot the Cream,  
He Churn'd all day, with all his might,  
And yet he could get no Butter at night,  
 
'tWere strange indeed for me to utter  
That without Cream he should make butter  
now having showed his huswivery,  
Who did all things thus untowardly,  
Unto the goodwife I'll turn my Rhyme,  
And tell you how she spent her time,  
She used to drive the Cart and P●ow,  
But do't well she knew not how,  
She made so many banks i'th' ground,  
He been better have given five pound,  
That she had never ta'en in hand,  
So sorely she did spoil the Land,  
As she did go to Sow likewise,  
She made a Feast for Crows and Pies,  
She threw a way a hanful at a place,  
And left all bare a nother space,  
At the Harrow she could not rule the Mare  
But ●id one Land, and left two bare.  
And shortly after one a day  
As she came home with a Load of Hay,  
She overthrew it nay and worse,  
She broke the Cart and killed a Horse:  
The goodman that time had ill luck,  
He let in the Sow and killed a Duck,  
And being grieved at his heart  
For loss on's Duck, his Horse and Cart,  
The many hurts on both sides done,  
His eyes did with salt water run:  
Then now, quoth he, full well I see,  
The Wheels for her the Plow's for me,  
I the entreat, quoth he, goodwife,  
To take thy Cl●●ge, and all my life  
I'●e never m●ddl● with huswivery more,  
Nor find such faults as I did before,  
Give me the Cart-whip and the Frail  
Take thou the Churn and milking pail.  
The good wife she was well content,  
And about her Huswivery, she went.  
He to Hedging and to Ditching,  
Heaping Mowing, Lading, Pitching,  
He would be twa ling still before,  
But after that ne'er twatled more.  
I Wish all Wives that troubled be,  
With Hose and Doublet Huswivery,  
To ●●rve t●em as this w●●an did.  
Th●n ma● they work and ne'er be chid,  
Though she i'th' interim had some loss,  
Thereby she was ca●●d of a Cross,  
Take heed of this ●●u husbandmen,  
Let Wives alone to grope the Hen,  
And meddle you with the Horse and Ox  
And keep your Lambs safe from the Fox,  
So shall you live Contented lives,  
And take sweet pleasure in your Wives.  
FINIS.   

Printed for J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger.