grow
On such who enters into Cuckolds Row. 
Hower’e as I was thinking of the best,
And as I nothing saw contented rest,
My am’rous Wife’s Gallant, before he went,
Did shew enough t’encrease my Discontent
For he wou’d slily pull her Petticoat,
Nod, Wink, and put into her Hand a Note,
Whisper her in the Ear, or touch her Foot
With many other private Signs to boot,
All which confirm’d my Jealousie the more,
And made me think ’em to be Rogue and Whore,
But as I knew my Wife a bawling Slut,
My Horns into my Pocket did I put
For Quietness, which yet I seldom had,
So I thro’ Cuckoldom run really Mad.

The fifth Comfort of Cuckoldom.

When I poor I unto a Wife was bound,
I wish I had been Bury’d under Ground,
For to my Grief I found her both before
And after Marriage too to be a Whore. 
But when I found the Beast of such a Breed,
I soldier turn’d, and with a Baw’d agreed
To let her out at half a Crown a Week
Who undertook she shou’d not be too seek;
For Custom, but said, she must for her pains,
From th’ insatiate Whore have double Gains.

The Sixth Comfort of Cuckoldom.

Finding my Wife by Whoring nothing get,
But to maintain her Sparks ran me in Debt;
Her Whoring gratis made me really vext,
So Shop I shut, and fled to Holland next.

The Seventh Comfort of Cuckoldom.

While I was but into the Country gone,
To give some Chapmen there the gentle Dun
Mean time a Rubbers she with some had play’d,
And in the Powd’ring Tub was quickly laid,
Unknown to me, and had been secret still,
But that the Surgeon bringing in his Bill
When I came Home, the Murder so came out,
And still my Wife is Whore enough I doubt.

The Eighth Comfort of Cuckoldom.

A sordid Lecher coming very old
To tempt my Spouse with Silver and with Gold,
She told me of’t, and said, she cou’d not fawn,
On him, or’s Gold, to lay her Soul in pawn. 
By this I thought her Honest, till my maid
Inform’d me shortly what Lew’d Tricks she play
I Twitted then my Wife’s Hypocrisie,
Who Impudently did Reply to me;
Old Flesh she Loath’d, as having in it left
No Gravy, and of all it’s Juice bereft,
But if the Flesh was Young and to her mind,
She’d to one Dish would never be confin’d.

The Ninth Comfort of Cuckoldom.

By my Dear Wife, in turning up her Tail
To bear the Threshing of her Gallant’s Frail,
A Groat (which always is a Cuckold’s Fee)
Under the Candlestick I’ve laid for me;
Besides good Peck and Booze, so till she’s Dead,
She may and will Whore on to get me Bread.

The Tenth Comfort of Cuckoldom.

As Strangers flatter’d with deceitful Snow,
Fall in a Deadly Pit they do not know,
So was I hamper’d in a Marriage Noose,
In Marrying one that did frequent the Stews,
As well as Cuckold me at Home; but she
Transacting Whoredom with great Secresie
Like other Neighbours, to avoid the Name
Of Cuckold, I as private hid her shame.