BALLAD. (Curtis was old Hodges wife)

Curtis was old Hodges wife, For vartue none was ever such, She led so pure, so chaste a life, Hodge said 'twas vartue over much.

For says sly old Hodge, says he, Great talkers do the least, d'ye see.

Curtis said, if men were rude, She'd scratch their eyes out, tear their hair; Cry'd Hodge, I believe thou'rt wond'rous good, However, let us nothing swear.

For says, &c.

One night she dreamt a drunken fool Be rude with her in spight would fain; She makes no more, but, with joint stool, Falls on her husband might and main.

Still says, &c.

By that time she had broke his nose, Hodge made shift to wake his wife; Dear Hodge, said she, judge by these blows, prize my vartue as my life.

Still says, &c.

I dreamt a rude man on me fell; However, I his project marr'd: Dear wife, cried Hodge, 'tis mighty well, But next time don't hit quite so hard.

For says, &c.

At break of day Hodge cross'd a stile, Near to a field of new-mown hay, And saw, and curst his stars the while, Curtis and Numps in am'rous play.

Was not I right, says Hodge, says he, Great talkers do the least d'ye see.