Page:Jovial batchelor.pdf/3

 ( 3 ) Howe'er I do marry I mean to beware,

For children brings charges and charges brings care,

With ſqueaking and ſqualing continually brawling,

Which concerts of muſic I never could bear.

Oh! there is a thouſand brave things to be had,

The wife muſt be nurs'd and the children be clad,

With other expences diſtracting my ſenſes,

I verily think I ſhould farely run mad.

Oh! there is many ways to drain a man's purſe,

The midwife, the vicar, the woman, the nurſe,

Beſides pots and ladles, clouts, blankets and cradles,

What man in his wits would be hampered thus.

I muſt rub off from the poſt at the door,

Perhaps once a week an old milk woman's ſcore,

Buy coals, candles and matches, i'll keep from the hatches,

If ever í marry I'm a ſon of a whore.

I had rather pick off another man's bone,

And let him reap what I had merrily fown,

Thar ever to marry leaſt by the Lord Harry,

I ſhould father a child that's none of my own.

Some wives by their cunning do often deceive,

Their innocent huſbands and make them believe,

That the little young baby is like the own dady,

And whilſt he believess it, ſhe laughs in her ſleeve.

Then talk not of marriage it is but in vain,

For ſingle am and ſingle I'll remain,

Here may you diſcover I am a briſk lover,

I'd rather be ſo than a cuckold in grain.

The MAIDEN'S ANSWER,

In Truth I do bloth for to hear you prate,

Against that moſt noble and honoured tfate,

Of true Matrimony, although you're my Croney,

I'll ſay you'll get it, when it is too late,