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ANATOMY OF A WOMANS TONGUE
DIVIDED INTO FIVE PARTS:
A MEDICINE, A POISON, A SERPENT, FIRE, AND THUNDER.
Whereunto is added divers new Epigrams nevers before printed* The fifth Edition, with more new Additions.
London, printed for Richard Harper, and are to be sold at his shop, at the Hospital-Gate, 1638. Duodecimo, containing eighteen pages.
The Frontispiece, or Meaning of the wooden Picture, in the Title-Page
This little emblem here doth represent .
The bless'd condition of a man content,
Bless'd with a blessing sent him from above,
A quiet wife wholly compact of love;
In middle of the title I have plac'd them,
With hand in hand, my must so much hath grac'd them.
The smiling sun, that o'er their heads doth shine,
Doth shew true love is heavenly and divine.
Now, at each corner of the title here,
Men discontented in their minds appear.
One sadly sits, his wife is grown so curst,
Her words like poison make him swell and burst.
Another man is by a serpent stung,
What is this serpent but a woman's tongue?
Another from the fire seems to turn,
To shew that women's tongues like (ire will born.
Another sounds his horn, and doth rejoice,
To the new-married Man.
YOUNG man, that now hast vcntur'd on a wife,
For, if thou dost, thou openest a way,
Haw a Woman's Tongue may be tad to be a Medicine.
THERE was a comely, handsome, proper maid, That lov'd a young man very well 'tig said, Unknown to him or unto any other, For sbe conceal'd it even from her mother; But she grew love-sick, and so wond'rous ill, Because poor wench she could not have her will -. Which made her mother call her then to task, What ail'd her to he sick, she her did ask. The bashful maid at first would nothing say, And yet, she being willing to obey, Her mother's will, thus she to speak began, And said she was in love with such a man; If she enjoy M him not, she was undone, And made th' unhapptest creature under th' son. Her mother did at this begin to chide, And said she was too young to be a bride: Nevertheless to the man's friends she went, To have both his good will, and their consent. This motion did the young man's mother please, But yet she said that he had a disease, That was the cause of all' her grief, alas! But yet she would not tell her what it was. But, to be short, they married were with speed, Unto the love sick maid's content indeed. And, since she found he was a lusty lad, She wondertt what disease her husband had: Bhe found her husband sound in wind and limb, And no disease or sickness troubled him, But on a time he went forth sound and well. And came home very sick, the truth to tell'; For he had- been among a drunken crew, So the new-married wife his sickness knew: Husband, quoth she, I now do understand' What your disease is, come give me your hand: Be of good comfort, for I will assure you, I, under Ood, will undertake to cure you. It is a catching sickness and disease, Which to prevent, I'll tell you, if you please; My words shall be as physick for your soul, If I may freely speak without controul: He gave consent, and'thus she did begin, To tell her husband 'twas a grievous sin: It will, quoth she, if you do use this thing, Both soul and body to confusion bring: And that in time it will impair your health, Weaken your body, and consume your wealth:
Twill rob you of your senses and your wit,
How a Woman'* Tongue may be said to be a Poison.
A MAN that had a nimble-tongued wife, With whom he liv'd a discontented life: For she would tell all that her husband did, And from her gossips nothing should be hid. If he sometimes did come home drunk to bed, About the town it should be published. If he a woman do salute or kiss, Why all the town forsooth must know of this. This made the poor man weary of his life, Because he had such an unnat'ral wife. Upon a time to his neighbour's house he went, Much vex'd in mind, and wond'rous discontent. He sits him down, but not a word he spake, Until his buttons from his doublet brake; It seems his heart, poor man, with grief was thrust, Which made his buttons from his doublet burst. He swell'd, as if he poisoned had been, Which caused them to call their neighbours in; Which when the people saw, quoth they, the man Is surely poison'd; so away they ran, Some for strong waters, some for sallet oil; Which when he saw, he could no less but smile: Quoth he, 'tis true, it was a woman's tongue, That hath, like poison, done me so much wrong.
No poison worse than this, for certainly
It made my buttons from my doublet fly.
O women, be not cruel unto men,
111 words arc worse than poison now and then.
How a Woman's Tongue may be said to be a Serpent,
THERE was a man was by a serpent stung, And asked counsel both of old and young, What med'cine to apply unto his sore, Which every day did vex him more and more; At last a woman, old, and lame, and blind. Told him that if that serpent he could And, Bid him pull out the sting, and not in vain, For he should mend, and soon be well again. It is impossible for me, quoth he, So many serpents in that place there be, To And the self-same serpent out again, That puts me now unto such grief and pain. Another man stood by that had a wife, That was a shrew, that raised wond'rous strife: Quoth he, I have a serpent every night, That lieth in my bosom, and can bite; And sure I think the-best way it will be, To cut that sting out that so troubleth me. And by experience I do know her tongue To be that sting that does me so much wrong. So home he goes, and doth her kindly greet. And takes his wife and binds her hands and feet. With that the tempest did begin to rise, She swore that she would claw out both his eyes. Ay, quoth the man, I'll give you leave to claw, Your bands being bound, so he his knife did draw; What will you murder me, you knave, quoth she? No, I will only cut thy tongue from thee, Reply'd the man: When she heard him say so, My gentlewoman knew not what to do. But she intreated him to spare her tongue, And promis'd she would never do him wrong, But that she would be loving, kind, and mild, And even as harmless as the new-born child; Bid him do what he will, if base he found her; So upon this condition he unbound her, And, having tamed her by policy, They ever after lived quietly. Men have enough to do that marry shrews, Better tame them by policy than blows.