Two contented cuckolds, or, Tit for tat/The two Contented CUCKOLDS; Or, TIT for TAT

The two Contented CUCKOLDS;
Or, TIT for TAT.

DRaw near a while till I relate,
A trick was play'd at Chestergate,
Which I think fit to declarate,
⁠Come listen to my rhime, boys;
It's of two neighbours and their wives,
That led exceeding wanton lives,
And they did kiss each others wives,
⁠Perhaps many a time, boys.

Says one unto his lovely bride,
I must go take a journey's ride,
May the heavens be your guide,
⁠They kissed each other and parted.
When he was gone, his rival came,
And they began their sporting game,
And was not she a dainty dame,
⁠That was so merry hearted.

Her husband did not long detain,
But shortly he return'd again,
His labour was not lost in vain,
⁠He catch'd them at their pleasure;
At the door he did rap and bawl,
She seemed to take no heed at all,
Tho' she knew him at his first-call,
⁠Which grieved her beyond measure.

He says my dear, Where shall I run?
She said, I'll hide you if I can,
My husband he will curse and ban,
⁠But first he'll have you taken';
So run into the cupboard fast,
And do not let a moment pass,
I dare not stay, he calls in haste,
⁠His noise will keep you 'wake love.

O then she run unto the door,
You're welcome husband o'er and o'er,
The only man I do adore,
⁠My joy and only honey;
Since it fell out and happened so,
That 'gainst my perſuasions you did go,
You're welcomer to my heart you know,
⁠Than either gold or money.

Well, go and call your neighbour down,
I do not care if I spend a crown,
On the best liquor in the town,
⁠To drive away all sorrow.
My dear, your neighbour's not at home.
If he be'nt himself, his wife must come,
There's nothing here that can be done,
⁠Unless we lend and borrow.

He sent his wife out for some ale,
He to the trade of kissing fell,
He to the trade of kissing fell,
⁠You'd laugh'd had you been there boys:
He brought her to the cupboard door,
There he kissed her o'er and o'er,

Which grieved her husband's heartfull ſore
⁠But durst not draw his rapier.

Its oh! my forehead how it achs,
Plague on this cupboard, how it shakes,
But woe be to the first that speaks,
⁠Until my game is over:
The other cuckold in the cupboard stood,
Not daring for to speak a word,
Until the horns sprung from his head,
⁠He wished he'd ne'er been born.

His wife returned with the cast,
Says he, My dear, are ye come at last?
My darling wife, Are ye come at last?
⁠Or did you wait for the brewing?
Fill us a glass, and let us drink,
But little did she ever think,
That any man could smile or wink,
⁠At what she had been doing.

I must unto the cupboard go,
Pray, must you husband, must you so,
I've lost the key, where, I don't know,
⁠Therefore you cannot enter;
But by some means he opened it,
Where he found his neighbour fit,
Walk out my friend if you think fits
⁠But pray how did you enter.

O pardon, pardon, I do crave;
Its pardon, pardon, you shall have,
Altho' to me you proved a knave,
⁠It was but out of humour:

Butthe devil a pin I matter that,
Since I well paid you tit for tat,
Therefore sit down, put on your hat,
⁠I've done as much for you Sir.