%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Catologue of Contented Cuckolds;/ OR, A/ Loving Society of Confessing Brethren of the Forked Order, &c. who being met together in a Tavern,/ declar'd each Man his Condition, resolving to be contented, and drown'd Melancholly in a Glass of Necktar. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1651-1686 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 08/23/2007 21794

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

4.130 R221374 2 Fond Boy, etc. Fond Boy Fond Boy Love's a sweet Passion, etc. Love's a Sweet Passion FUll ten honest Tradesmen did happen to meet,/ In a Tavern, it seems, about Leaden-hall-street; Pepys 4.130 Wing C1307[A] Pepys Library The Pepys ballads : facsimile volume Editor W.G. Day D.S. Brewer Cambridge [England] 1987 Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 4: 130 The Catologue of Contented Cuckolds;/ OR, A/ Loving Society of Confessing Brethren of the Forked Order, &c. who being met together in a Tavern,/ declar'd each Man his Condition, resolving to be contented, and drown'd Melancholly in a Glass of Necktar. The Catologue of Contented Cuckolds: OR, A Loving Society of Confessing Brethren of the Forked Order, etc. who being met together in a Tavern, declar'd each Man his Condition, resolving to be contented, and drown'd Melancholly in a Glass of Necktar. The Catalogue of Contented Cuckolds: Or, a Loving Society of Confessing Brethren of the Forked Order, etc., Who Being Met Together in a Tavern, Declared Each Man His Condition, Resolving to be Contented, and Drown Melancholy in a Glass of Nectar. 1/2 sheet oblong folio, 188 x 290 cropped left and right edges, creased, uneven inking horizontal rules 1651-1686 Printed for I. C. in Little=Brittain. J. C. Watt

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 Taxonomy used by Pepys to Organize Ballads in Albums A Small Promiscuous Supplement Devotion & Morality Drinking & Good Fellowship History - True & Fabulous Humour, Frollicks &c Love Pleasant Love Pleasant and Unfortunate Love Unfortunate Marriage Sea State & Times Tragedy Various Subjects Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/health alcohol animals/nature appearance Bible/biblical figures buildings/architecture catastrophe children class clothing/fashion country/nation crime death economics/trade entertainment family/procreation folklore gender historical figures & events holidays/seasons infidelity law London love maritime marriage military/war monstrosity mythology/Classical world news nobility/court politics/government punishment religious concepts religious figures religious types & sects royalty rural life servitude sex/sexuality supernatural/magic The New World travel trickery/deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgarities/crass humor Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 8/23/2007 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Marriage alcohol economics/trade infidelity marriage sex/sexuality 8/23/07 Checker Rachel Mann Transcription checked, Metadata updated, XML created; ESTC # found in bl.uk (perhaps should be double-checked; slight variation in brackets in imprint) 4/25/07 Transcriber Jessica Murphy Original Transcription 10/25/2004 Bibliographer Liberty Stanavage Bibliographic SQL Database Record Created
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FUll ten honest Tradesmen did happen to meet, In a Tavern, it seems, about Leaden-hall-street; One a Brewer, a Baker, a Cook, and a Tayler; With a Turner, a Gold-smith, a Merchant, a Sayler; Nay, a Docter, a Surgeon which opens the vein: These was good honest Tradesmen, all Cuckolds in grain. My Wife, quoth the Brewer, is charming and fair, She will ramble abroad, but I never know where; Yet at midnight sometimes she returns with a Spark; Nay, I sometimes have found her at Put in the dark: Yet I swear by this Glass of rich sparkling Wine, I will now be contented, and never repine. The Baker, he cry'd, There is Robin my man, He will play with his Dame, let me do what I can; Once I happen'd to catch him in Bed by her side, You'd a laught to have seen how I liqur'd his hide:
But I swear by this Glass of rich sparkling Wine, I will now be contented, and never repine. The Cook he cry'd out, I am none of the least, For when ever I go to a Dinner, or Feast, There is brawny young William, the Poulterer's Man, He will kiss my sweet Wife for a Sop in the Pan: Yet I swear by this Glass of rich sparkling Wine, I will now be contented, and never repine. The Tayler sat sighing and cratching his ears. Quoth he, I have been Cuckold'd this three or four Years, By a Saylsman who gave my sweet wife her Silk-gown, When he comes up my stairs, I am forc'd to go down: It cannot be avoided, I'll swear by this Wine, But I'll now be contented, and never repine. In troth, quoth the Turner, 'tis my very Case, For when her Gallant comes I am forc'd to give place;
To my work straight I go where I labour and toyl. And I leave him to turn up my wife the mean while; But my pocket with Genea's of Gold he doth line, Therefore I'll be contented, and never repine. O, then, said the Goldsmith pray hear my complaint, Sirs, I marry'd a Quaker she seem'd like a Saint, Yet a Horn to the World I have reason to blow, O the innocent Lamb has a dark way to go: Yet I swear by this Glass of rich sparkling Wine, I will now be contented, and never repine. The Merchant he cry'd, When I go to the Change, With a Master of Musick my Lady will range, To the Tavern, and thereon her Lute he must play, She may dance, but I'm sure I the Musick must pay: With my Treasure his pockets she often will line, Yet contented I'll be, 'tis in vain to repine. The Saylor cry'd, Brothers, hear me if you please, Three or four Years together I plough'd the rough Seas, In my absence my Wife has a daughter and a Son, And I found a great Panyer as big as a Tun: I cry'd out, My sweet Nancy 'faith this is fine? Be contented, said she, tis in vain to repine. Come, come, said the Docter, the best of us all Cannot be our Wives Keepers, they are subject to fall; Friends, by woful Experence I speak it indeed, I have one that will help a kind Friend at his need: Yet I swear by this Glass of rich sparkling Wine, I will now be contented, never repine. The Surgeon he cry'd, Sirs, I'll tell you a Jest; For I'm sure I am a Cuckold as well as the rest: Once I follow'd my Wife and her Spark to Horn-fair; Where I took them both napping as Moss catcht his Mars. He was letting her blood near the Leg and the Loyn; I was almost Horn-mad, I began to repine. Since we are ten Cuckolds here all on a row, We will drink each a Bottle, before we do go, For to drown Malancholy in Liquor of Life; He's a Fool that will weep for the Sins of his Wife; Let us tipple Canary, and never complain There is bette than we that Cuckolds in Grain.
Printed for J.C. in Little-Britain.