S I was walking foｰth of late,
  I heard a Man complaining,
With that I drew me near to him,
     to know the cauテ and meaning
Of this his バｰrow, pain and grief,
     which bｰed him ブch diヂ･er.
Alas, quoth he, what ドall I do,
     my wife will be my Ma･er.
But if ever I am a Widower,
    and another wife do marry,
I mean to keep her poor and bare,
 and the purテ I mean to carry.

If I ドould give her foｰty pound,
     within her apｰon folding,
No longer then she's telling ont,
     her tongue would ne're leave ツolding,
As Eバps Dog barkt at the Moon,
     thinking foｰ to di･a･ her,
So doth my wife ツold without cauテ,
     and ･rives to be my Ma･er;
But if ever, &c.

Were I バ ･rong as Hercules,
     oｰ wiテr then Apollo,
Or had I Icarus wings to flye,
     my wife would after follow.
Or ドould I live as many years,
     as ever did King Ne･or,
Yet I do greatly ･and in fear,
     my wife would be my Ma･er.
But if ever, &c.

I know no cauテ noｰ reaバn why,
     that she with me should jangle,
I never gave her cauテ at all,
     to make her with me wｰangle;
I pleaテ her ･ill in what I may,
     and do no jot di･a･ her,
Yet ドe doth ･rive both night and day,
     always to be my Ma･er,
But if ever I am a Widdower,
    and another wife do marry,
I mean to keep her poor and bare,
    and the purテ I mean to carry.

Every moｰning make a fire,
  all which is done to eaテ her,
I get a Nutmeg, make a toa･,
     in hope therewith to pleaテ her;
Of a cup of nappy ale and パice,
     of which ドe is fir･ ta･er,
And yet this cros-grain'd quean will ツold
     and ･rive to be my ma･er.
But if ever, &c.

I waド the diドes, waド the houテ,
     I dreピ her wholバm dyet,
I humour her in every thing,
     becauテ I would be quiet:
Of every テveral diド of meat,
     she'l ブrely be fir･ ta･er,
And I am glad to pick the bones,
     she is バ much my ma･er:
But if ever, &c.

Sometimes she'l ナt while day gives light
     in company with good fellows,
In Taverns and in bowling Kens,
     oｰ in バme pimping Ale-houテ;
& when she comes home drunk at night,
     though I do not di･a･ her,
She'l fling she'l throw, she'l ツratch and bit
     and ･rive to be my Ma･er.
But if ever, &c.

Her bed I make both バft and fine,
     and put on shoos completely,
Her shoos and ･ockings I pull off,
     and lay her down mo･ neatly:
I cover her and keep her warm,
     foｰ fear I ドould di･a･ her,
I hug her kindly in my arms,
     yet ･ill she'l be my ma･er:
But if ever, &c.

And when I am with her in bed,
     she doth not uテ me well ナr,
She'l wｰing my noテ, and pull my ears,
     a pittiful caテ to tell ナr:
And when I am with her in bed,
     not meaning to mole･ her,
She'l kick me out at the beds feet,
     and バ become my ma･er:
But if ever, &c.

And thus you hear how cruelly
     my wife doth ･ill abuテ me;
At bed, at board, at noon and night,
     she always doth miブテ me:
But if I were a lu･y Man,
     and able foｰ to ba･ her,
Then would I ブrely uテ バme means,
     that she should not be my ma･er.
But if ever, &c.

You Batcheloｰs that ヘeethearts have,
     when as you are a Wooing,
Be ブre you look befoｰe you leap,
     foｰ fear of your undoing:
The after wit is not the be･,
     and he that weds in ha･ ナr,
May like to me bewail his caテ,
     if his wife do pｰove his Ma･er:
But if ever, &c.

You Married Men that have good wives
     I wiド you deal well by them,
Foｰ they moｰe pｰecious are then gold,
     if once you come to try them:
A good wife makes a huッand glad,
     then let him not di･a･ her,
But a ツold will make a Man run mad,
     if once she pｰoves his Ma･er,
But if ever, &c.