Seldom Cleanly (1650)
Draw near, you country girls
And listen unto me
I’ll tell you all a new conceit concerning huswifrey:
Three aunts I had of late,
Good huswifes all were they
But cruel death hath taken
The best of them away.
O this was one of my aunts
And the best of all the three
And surely though I say it myself,
A cleanly woman was she.
But when she went to see
Her cattle in the fields,
When she comes home two pounds of dirt
Hang draggling at her heels.
And there she let it hang
From Candlemas to May,
And then she took a hatchet in hand
And chopped it clean away.
Another trick she had
As I shall now declare,
She only swept the house out
About four times a year,
And when she swept the hall
The parlour or the spense,
The dust was worth to her, at least,
A shilling of fourteen pence.
The garment she did wear
Did shine like a brazen crock,
And where she went she bore such a scent
That the flies blew up her frock.
If otherwise she had but of a disclout fail
She’d set them for the dog to lick
And wipe them with his tail.
My aunt so curious was,
As I to you may tell,
She used to make fat puddings
In markets for to sell.
The smallest candle’s end
My aunt would never lose
It would help to make her puddings fat
With the droppings of her nose,
But to conclude in haste,
I hold it not amiss
I love a cleanly huswife well
As may appear by this.
I love a cleanly huswife well
As may appear by this.
— Martin Parker
The Winchester Wedding (1684)
At Winchester was a wedding
The like was never seen
Twixt lusty Ralph of Redding
And bonny Black Bess of the Green.
The fidlers were crowding before,
Each lass was as fine as a queen.
There was a hundred and more
For all the country came in.
Brisk Robin led Rose so fair,
She looked like a Lily o’ the Vale
And ruddy fac’d Harry led Mary,
And Roger led bouncing Nell.
The Bride came out to meet ‘em,
Afraid the dinner was spoiled
And usher’d ‘em in to treat ‘em,
With baked and roasted and boiled.
The lads were so frolick and jolly,
For each had his love by his side,
But Willy was mad melancholy
For he had a mind to the Bride.
Then Philip begins her health,.
And turns a beer glass on his thumb,
But Jenkin was reckoned for drinking,
The best in Christendom.
And now they had din’d advancing
Into the midst of the hall,
She struggled and blushed and frowned
And ready with anger to cry
‘Cause Arthur with tying her garter
Had slip’d up his hand too high.
And now for throwing the stocking,
The bride away was led
The groom got drunk and was knocking
For Candles to light ‘em to bed.
Sukey that danced with the cushion
An hour from the room had been gone
And Barnaby knew by her blushing
That some other dance had been done.
And thus of fifty fair maids
That went to the Wedding with men
Scarce five of the fifty were left ye
That so did return again.
— Thomas d’Urfey