A Marriage song called by the Author in and Out

Hah, haue I catcht you prethee sweet-hart show,
If so thou canst, who is in Turne-ball now?
Dost smile my pretious one? nay I must know,
There is no remedy, then tell me how;
What my ingenuous cheat, dost laugh to see,
All former arres turne to an harmony,
So generally applauded? trew thou may,
The Night is past, and now appeares the day,
Full of true Iouisance; long was thy suit,
Ere twas effected, being in and out,
Vowing and breaking, making many an oath,
Which now I hope's confirmed by you both.
O how I clip thee for it? since thy name,
Is there renued, which first defam'd the same,
For (heare me Bride-groom) thou by this shalt saue
Thy selfe a Title: I will raze out knaue,
Dishonest louer: vow infringing swaine,
And say thou ceast to loue, that thou againe
Might loue more feruent, being taught to wooe,
And wooing doe what Silke-wormes vse to doe;
Who doe surcesse from labour now and then,
That after rest the better they might spin.
Spin then (my pretty Cobweb) let me see,
How well thy Bride likes thy actiuitie.
That when she sees thy cunning, she may say;
" Why now I'me pleas'd for all my long delay;
" Play that stroake still, theres none that here can let thee,
" For non there is can better please thy Bettie.
" O there (my deere) I hope thou'le nere giue ore,
" Why might not this been done as well before?
" Nay faint not man, was Bettie so soone won,
" That her short pleasure should be so soone done.
" Nay then come vp, are marriage ioyes so short,
" That Maydenheads are lost with such small sport?
" This if she say (as this she well may say)
Like a good Gamster hold her still out play.
First night at least wise, and it will be hard,
But she will loue the better afterward.
Whence is the Prouerb (as it hath been said)
Maydens loue them that haue their maydenhead:
Come then my lad of mettall make resort,
Vnto the throne of loue thy Betties fort.
There plant thy Cannon siedge her round about.
Be sure (my Boy) she cannot long hold out.
Erect thy standerd, let her tender brest,
Be thy pauillion: where thou takes thy rest.
Let her sweet-rosie Breth such ioyes bestow.
That in that vale of Paradise below,
Thou may collect thy ioyes to be farre more,
Then any mortall euer had before.
Yet heare me fiend, if thou secure wilt be,
Obserue these rules which I prescribe to thee.
Be not horne iealous, it will make thee madde,
Women will haue it if it may be had.
Nor can a iealous eye preuent their sport,
For if they lou't farre will they venter for't.
Suppose her straying beauty should be led,
To the embraces of anothers bedde,
Wilt thou Acteon-like thy houre-glasse spend,
In moning that thou neuer canst amend?
No, my kind friend, if thoul't be rul'd by me,
I'de haue thee wnke at that which thou dost see,
shaing thy wiues defects with patient mind,
Seeing, yet seeming to the world blind.
For tell me friend, what harme is there in it?
If then being cloyd, another haue a bitte?
Which thou may spare, and she as freely giue,
Beleeue me friend, thou hast no cause to greeue.
For though another in thy saddle ride,
When he is gone, there's place for thee beside,
Which thou may vse at pleasure, and it'h end,
Reserue a pretty mosll for thy friend.
Let not thy reason then be counter-bufft,
Nor thinke thy pillow with horne-shauings stuft,
If't be thy destiny to be a monster,
Thou must be one, if not, how ere men coster.
Thou may remaine secure, exempt from shame,
Though megre Enuie aggrauate the same.
For this has been my firme position still,
The husbands hornes be in the womans will.