Have among you good Women 
 OR,  
A Highway discourse between old William Starket,  
And Robin Hobbs, going to Maydstone market:  
Good Women before hand let me you advise,  
To keep your own counsel, and so be held wise.  
If any one take in ill part what's here said,  
she'll show by her kicking that she's a galled jade.  
To the tune of, O such a Rogue.  
 

GOd morrow old father Starket,  
whither go you with such speed,  
I'm going to Maidstone Market,  
to buy such things as I need:  
I care not if I go a long with you,  
if you go no faster than I,  
I am very glad that I spied you,  
for I love good company.  
What think you of Alce that sells butter,  
her neighbour's head clothes she off plucked,  
And she scolded from dinner to supper,  
oh such a scold would be cuckt.   

There's many such birds in our town,  
whose fury no reason can suage,  
I'd give very gladly a crown,  
to hear them all sing in a Cage:  
Poor men in subjection are held,  
so are modest women likewise,  
Unless their own mind be fulfilled,  
they'll be ready to scratch out ones eyes.  
What think you of jone the Spinner,  
her husband's pocket she picked,  
And she grudges her servants their dinner  
oh such a Quean would be kicked.   

Nay kickings too good for her,  
her husband of her stands in awe,  
Out of doors he dares not stir,  
for fear that he feel club law:  
If he to the Alehouse steal,  
she'll go as fast or faster,  
And there she will ring him a peal,  
that is worse than Lord or Master:  
What think you of Ruth the Seamstris,  
her tongue can no way be reclaimed,  
She rules o'er poor Tom like an Empress,  
oh such a proud wench would be tamed.   

'tis pity that men are such fools,  
to make themselves slaves to their wives,  
For still where the foot the head rules,  
'tis wonder if any thing thrives:  
That man that will be his wife's drudge,  
of such a conceit I am,  
That if I might be his judge,  
he should eat none o'th' roasted Ram:  
What think you of jone that cries pins,  
come eight rows a penny cries she,  
She has broken her husband's shins,  
and swears she'll be drunk before he.   

Why, wherefore all this doth he suffer,  
why if he should give her a check,  
She tells her friends how he doth cuff her,  
and threatens to break her neck:  
So he for fear she'll cry out,  
dares neither to strike nor chide her,  
For she'll give the word all about,  
that his Queans will not let him abide her:  
What think you of drunken Sue,  
for drink she will sell all her smocks,  
I'th' streets she will rail and spew,  
'tis fit she were tamed in the stocks.   

The second part,  
To the same tune.  
 

NAy sometimes besides her own getting,  
she'll pawn his shirt and his breeches,  
Which all shall be spent at a sitting,  
and thus she increaseth his riches:  
What thinks her poor husband of that,  
why, if he do her reprehend,  
His face She will scratch like a Cat,  
and swears what she gets she will spend:  
What think you of Peg the Pie-woman,  
her Nose hath been cut and slashed,  
she's turned now a days very common,  
oh such a Quean would be lashed.   

Last Saturday noon at dinner,  
some spoke about her I suppose,  
How she was found nought with a joiner,  
whose wife came and cut her Nose:  
Indeed no body can blame her,  
she has given her a mark to be known,  
And if all that will not shame her,  
the Hangman has marked her for his own:  
What think you of snuffelling Kate,  
by her many women have smarted,  
She sells Maidenheads at a rate,  
oh such a old Trot would be carted.   

Such cunning old sluts as she,  
indeed are the ruin of many,  
Such fast holding Lime-twigs they be,  
that if they get hold of any,  
There's no speech at all of dismissing,  
whiles money their turn can serve,  
Thus whiles he his Minion is kissing,  
his poor wife and children may starve:  
What think you of Madge that cries wheat,  
she makes her poor husband shed tears,  
She useth to cozen and cheat,  
but the Pillory gapes for her ears.   

I heard lately how she did deal,  
with a Butcher a notable blade,  
Whom she gulled of a quarter of Veal,  
and thus she set up her trade:  
Since that she hath done many a sleight,  
as bad or rather worse,  
If you in her company light,  
I wish you take heed of you purse:  
What think you of quarrelling Nan,  
that will to no goodness be turned,  
She threatens to kill her good man,  
oh such a Quean would be burned.   

ay me sorry to hear that news,  
when man and wife are at strife:  
Alas neighbour, how can you choose,  
when a man go in danger on's life.  
Lo thus we have talked away time,  
and now perforce must we part,  
The Market is now in the prune,  
then farewell with all my heart:  
Commend me to Doll at the Crown,  
that message must not be missed,  
she's the kindest Host in the town,  
oh such a Lass would be kissed.   

But stay neighbour, hark you one word,  
which I had forgotten before,  
What hear you of little Kate Bird,  
some say she is turned arrant whore:  
Indeed neighbour I thought no less,  
since that with her I was acquainted,  
A man can no otherwise guess,  
her face is most basely painted:  
She ledges with mouldy fact Nell,  
and I doubt they will never be parted,  
Till the one get the lash in Bridewell,  
and the other from Newgate be carted.    
M. P.  
FINIS.   

Printed at London for Thomas Lambert.