The Invincible PRIDE of Women:  
OR, The London Tradesman's Lamentation, For the Prodigality of his Wife,  doth daily pillage his Purse.  
To the Tune of the Spinning-Wheel.  
Licenced according to Order.  
 
 

I Have a Wife, the more's my Care,  
who like a gaudy Peacock goes,  
In Topknots, Patches, Powdered Hair,  
besides she is the worst of shrews;  
This fills my Heart with grief and care  
To think I must this burden bear.   

It is her forecast to Contrive,  
to rise about the hour of Noon,  
And if she's Trimmed and Rigged by five  
why this I count is very soon;  
Then goes she to a Ball or Play  
To pass the pleasant night away,   
 
 

And when she home returns again,  
conducted by a Bully Spark,  
If that I in the least Complain,  
she does my words and actions mark;  
And does likewise my Gullet tear,  
Then Roars like Thunder in the Air.   

I never had a Groat with her  
most solemnly I here declare,  
Yet she's as proud as Lucifer  
and cannot study what to wear  
In sumptuous Robes she still appears,  
While I am forced to hid my Ears.   

The lofty Topknots on her Crown,  
with which she sails abroad withal,  
Makes me with Care alas! look down,  
as having now no hope at all,  
That ever I shall happy be  
In such a flaunting Wife as she.   

In debt with every Shop shop she runs  
for to appear in gaudy Pride,  
And when the Milliner she dun,  
I then am forced my Head to hid  
Dear Friends, this proud imperious Wife  
She makes me weary of my Life.   

Sometimes with words both kind and mild  
I let her know my wretched state  
For which I straight ways am Reviled:  
says she, I will appear more Great  
Than any Merchant's London Dame,  
Tho' thou art ruined for the same.   

'Tis true she is both fair and young  
and speaks Italian Greek and Dutch,  
Besides she hath the scolding Tongue,  
which is, in faith, a Tongue too much;  
I dare not speak nor look awry  
For fear of her severity.   

My worldly glory, joy and bliss,  
is turned to sorrow grief and care  
He that has such a Wife as this  
needs no more torment I declare;  
To buy those Trinkets which they lack  
Both Stock and Credit goes to Rack.   

There's many more as well as I,  
in famous London-City fair  
Whose Wives with Prodigality  
doth fill their Husband's Hearts with care;  
I pity those with all my Heart  
Since I with them do bear a Part.    

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Back.