Page:Jamie's bad wife.pdf/3

( 3 ) But when the fatal knot was tied,

I found I was betray'd', man;

For she was fill’d wi' nought but strife,

And foolish empty pride, man.

I sit as mute as ony sot,

Wi' no a word out o’ my throat,

Till o’er my head the chamber-pot

In twenty pieces it is broke,

And then I’m forc’d to flee, man.

And if her wants I can’t supply,

She’ll flee like fire on me, man;

And let the pinch be ne'er so great,

She cries aloud for tea, man.

And if I bid her gang to wirk,

She flees at me like ony Turk;

Wi’ venom she could cut my throat,

Or shoot me dead upon the spot:

She’s fill’d with cruelty, man.

Some says that I should thresh her weel,

And I should toon her hide, man;

The oil o’ a gude hazel rung,

They say, would lay her pride, man.

But I dinna like to try that plan,

It mak’s but little o’ a man,

To say that he wou’d lift his han’;

For instance, there, our neighbour Tam,

He’s just as ill as me, man.

But Jamie, whan ye wale a wife,

Lay beauty a’ aside, man;

The pleasures o’ a virtuous wife

Are beyond a bonny bride, man: