THE POOR WHORES' COMPLAINT

Come listen a while and you shall hear
How the poor whores fare in the winter
They've hardly any rags to hide their wares
Indeed 'tis a desperate thing, sir
With their draggel tails nine inches deep
And hardly a shoe or a stocking,
Yet if a cull they by chance should meet
At him they will be bobbing

Says Molly, "I think my case very hard,
For I can get no money";
Says Nancy, "I think mine's as bad,
For last night I earned but a penny"
All night we freeze with our cull in the cold
Till the constable he comes early
Then he packs us away for being so bold
So we pay for whoring severely
Says Sally, "I think I've the worst luck of all,
Since I have been a-whoring
I've never before been without a smock
Although it was ne'er such a poor one
Though I trudge the streets all night in the cold
My rags men are pulling and haling
Old Nick I'm sure would not be a whore
It's grown such a hell of a calling"

Then straightaway young Nell replied,
"What signifies complaining?
You know you're all poxed and so am I
And that indeed's our failing
We swarm like bees at every street end
Catching at every fellow,
Let him be ever so poxed or clean
We 're always ready to follow "

There's some that wears silk and satin gay,
'Tis them who gets the money;
With their next neighbour they slyly play
And call him their joy and their honey
While he with money can supply
They're always ready to serve him,
While his poor wife and children left at home
For bread are almost starving

Likewise all you men with handsome wives,
Take care they don't forsake you,
For if they want money, as sure as your life
They will a cuckold make you
They'll graft such a pair of horns on your head
That you can hardly bear them,
They're such cunning jades if you don't take care
They'll force you for to wear them

Before those privy whores were known
In town to be so plenty,
We common girls had better luck,
Then men were not so dainty
They brought to us brave English quills
And we would bite and pinch them,
If we set them on fire at both ends at once
The devil he may quench them

cull = man/customer; set them on fire = gave them the pox
Words from a 17th century broadside; tune: Ladies of London

@bitching @England
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