The Second Comfort of Cuckoldom.

No sooner had I chang’d my single Life, And had confin’d my Carcass to a Wife; But she was always Gadding up and down, To take the various Pleasures of the Town; Howe’re I only reckon’d this to be, The airy Frisks of her Minority, Till shortly finding and old Hag wou’d pay Her Visits oft, and take her Day by Day [*?]oad, indeed this gave me some Mistrust, That this old weather beaten Devil must Be some Procurer, and resolv’d to watch Their Waters, where shoul’d I the Bitches catch, But in a Bowdy-house in Milford-lane?  So going in a Passion home again, At twelve at Night my Doxie likewise came, Whom I in mod’rate Terms began to blame; Telling her that old Witch with whom she went, Abroad a Days by Rogues was only sent About to Wheedle young and tender Maids To Ruine, till they turned common Jades. You Lie, reply’d my hopeful graceless Dear, I’ll have you know, I’ll never sin in fear, Besides for she of whom you think, Amiss, That sweet obliging Gentlewoman is A tender-hearted Bawd that ne’er made Whore, But ever us’d such as were broke before. Now finding her so bad at Seventeen, Thinks I by that time she has Thirty seen, She’ll be a Whore in Grain; but by good hap, She dy’d within a year of Pox and Clap.

The third Comfort of Cuckoldom.

It was my Fortune to be joyn’d to one,
As pretty as was shined on by the Sun;
For on my word her Eyes were full and gray,
With ruddy Lips, round Cheeks, her Forehead lay
Archt like a snowie Bank, which did uphold
Her natvie Tresses, that did shine like Gold;
Her azure Veins, which with a well sharp’d Nose,
Her whiter Neck, broad Shoulders to compose: 
A slender Waste, a Body strait and Tall,
With Swan-like Breasts, long Hands, and Fingers small,
Her Ivory Knees, her Legs were neat and clean,
A Swelling Calf, with Ancles round and lean,
Her Insteps thin, short Heels, with even Toes,
A Sole most strait, proportion’d Feet, she goes
With modest Grace; but yet her Company,
Did not a Month enjoy, before that I
Was Prest for Sea, and being on the Main,
For thirty Months I then return’d again,
Where finding in my absence that my Wife
Three brats had got, a most unchaste Life
Both Day and Night I led the lech’rous Whore;
Who seeing how I Curst, and Bann’d, and Swore,
A Bag or two she shew’d me cramn’d with Gold,
Which Treasure I no sooner did behold,
But then I Kist my loving Wife and leapt,
For very Gladness that my Horns were Tipt.

The fourth Comfort of Cuckoldom.

Above a Year or two I always thought
My Wife so good that she cou’d not be naught,
Till one Night coming home I caught a Spark
Sat in my Parlor by her in the Dark,
In mighty Pet I call’d for Candles strait,
Doubting that I poor Fool was come too late: 
T’avert the Burthen which is made to