A faire wife, a kinde wife, a sweet wife, sets a poore man vp.
What though thy shelues be ne’re so bare: [5]
A woman still is currant ware:
Each man will cheapen, foe, and friend,
But whilst thou art at tother end,
What ere thou seest, or what dost heare,
Foole, haue no eye to, nor an eare; [10]
And after supper for her sake,
When thou hast fed, snort, though thou wake:
What though the Gallants call thee mome?