Share page | Visit Us On FB |
THE UNNATURAL WIFE
Lest like to me, you burne in fire, Because of cruell rage and ire:
oh murther,
most inhumane, To spill my Husbands blood.
4 A Locke-Smith late in Westminster,
my Husband was by trade, And well he liued by his Art, though oft I him vbbraide; And oftentimes would chide and braule, And many ill names would him call: oh murther, most inhumane, To spill my Husbands blood.
5 T And my Husband foorth had bin, X at Supper at that time,
When as I did commit that sin,
which was a bloody crime; And comming home he then did craue, A Shilling of me for to haue: oh murther, most inhumane, To spill my Husbands blood.
6 I vow'd he should no Money get,
and I my vow did keepe, Which then did cause him for to fret,
but now it makes me weepe; And then in striuing for the same, I drew my knife vnto my shame: oh murther, most inhumane, To spill my Husbands blood.
285 |
||