THE First Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

MAtrimony is like a good hedge about a piece of Pasture; it keeps a Man from treading o­ver my ground. Or if any Swash-buckler will be so eager after his game, as to break my Quick-set, and ride over my Corn, a pedibus ambulando pre­sently lays him by the heels for his daring presumption.

Then again, a Woman is like a House; the Law gives a man a Lease of her; and he that takes a Lease of a House, is bound to keep the Tenement in repair. If she happen to be with Child, she is like a Ship, and then she never looks so handsome as when she is compleatly rigg'd and trim'd.

He that Courts a young Lady neat and fashionable in her habit, does ill if he in­tend not to maintain her afterwards in the same Garb. He must be no other than one of those pittiful muck-worms that go all day with their Collars unbutton'd, that lowres at the finer and more curious Dress of his Wife, as if neatness and cleanliness belonged onely to Maids, and slattern care­lesness to Wives: Whereas near, and trim, and tite, are the mark of Good-Huswifery; loose and tawdrie, the sign of a Curti­san.

All the while a man is a woing, he loves to see every thing in print, every thing proper and well adjusted about his Mistress; but when they have got 'em once home, and the Portion is paid, then let the straws and the feathers stick upon their Gowns, 'tis not a pin matter.

Nothing more delights the eye than Beauty; but let a handsome draggle-tail come in sight, and they cry, Fair and slut­tish. What a pleasant comfort a man has of a wife that wallows about the house in her slip-shooes, and her Linen smelling like sowre Milk! Therefore 'tis a womans love to her Husband, that she is so earnest with him for fine Cloaths, that she may [Page 3]be the more grateful acceptable to his sight: And what can be a greater comfort of Wed­lock, than the Love of a Wife? A thing that they who want would purchase at any rate. Diamonds never shew their Value, but when they are apparell'd in Gold; and then they are admir'd by all. Proper at­tire, and becoming dress, are the life of Beauty.

And more than this, every one knows, 'tis not every mans luck to have a hand­some, beautiful Wife; some are pretty well, some are but so so, and some by my truly so homely, that as for their beauty you can hardly give 'em a good word However, Art helps Nature; and every one would by art correct the defects of Nature. Nay, it is their prudence to be earnest with their Husbands for those Assistances which Art requires to polish Nature, that they may keep themselves from the inconveniences of Contempt. For it is a hard matter for a woman to recover those unkindnesses which proceed from an eye that once be­gins to nauseate. Hence it follows, that one of the chief comforts of Marriage must be a wife well drest, for by that means she reconciles the eye that was perhaps offen­ded and disgusted beholding her but just before unready.

Dress and Carriage strangely bewitch. There is a charm in the very noise and rusling of their Petticoats— I have known, when a Lady, at what time, which is not long ago, that women wore flaps to their shooes, when the noise of a Lady, perhaps not altogether so handsom as Venus, com­ing out of her Chamber, and graceful­ly beating the stairs as she descended step by step with her musical slap, slaps, has kindled new fires in the Husband below, though he had not been up above an hour before. To which the rusling of the Sattin Petticoat, is like the Base to the Tre­ble, which produces such a charming har­mony, that the Eye is in a manner over­perswaded by the Ear, & believes that to be a new face, which before seem'd not so plea­sing; and by an officious flattery of the fancie, still improving the discovery, till it beget new flames and fresh desires. Which renewing of love being a happi­ness, and the aim of succeeding pleasure to both parties, produced by the delightful charm of Garb and Dress, plainly evinces that the outward Ornaments of a Wife must be a great comfort to a Married Man. And no man can blame the importunity of a Wife in that respect, when he finds it so conducing to his satisfaction.

Then steps in that Moral Adagie to in­gage him deeper in his opinion; Fine fea­thers make fine birds. And who will not endure the horrid noise of a Parrot, or the chattering of a Jay, for the sake of their curious feathers? which being so frequent­ly experienc'd, certainly one would think a rational man should much sooner endure a little more than ordinary clamour from a Wife, for that which in the end brings him the greatest comfort of Matrimony that can be, content of Mind; and removes all those nuisances, which otherwise a sa­tiated eye might apprehend.

Juno, the chiefest of all the Goddesses, is said to have chosen the Peacock for her pe­culiar Bird; and why? because of all other birds, that bird is the most sumptuously clad. And she is said of all the Goddesses, to be most gorgeous her self in her Apparel, as one that pick'd and cull'd the colours of her Knots and Ribbons, in imitation of Natures variety bestow'd upon that Bird. For which reason the Poets generally ap­parel her in a Mantle embroidered with the gaudy eyes of Peacocks tails. And all this to draw the wandring affections of Jove home to her self. Neither did Jupiter ever contradict her, though she were shrew­ish [Page 6]enough too. But that was not all; he let her have her humour, as finding it re­newed his affection to her, after all the change of other Women.

Every new Gown causes a new wedding day; for Women furnish themselves with new smiles and new caresses against that time. Pleasure it self grows irksome, when it continues still the same. The ebbings and flowings of Affection, enhance the price of it. Should men be always happy, they would never know they were so. 'Tis the same with rain and sun-shine, winter and summer. Those Countries are most pleasant, where the temper of the sea­sons, and the varieties of hot and cold, foul and fair, are most kindly intermix'd: and we find that foul weather is many times more desir'd and more acceptable than a serene skie, as being much more beneficial.

In like manner, if the Quarrel of a Wife be for the advantage of a Husband, if she murmure sometimes for the want of those things which may render her self to her Husband more gay and debonaire in her humour, and her person more grace­ful and alluring to his eye, a storm may now and then be born with, that produ­ces such calm effects.

And this, by way of Doctrine and Use, may serve the more justly and severely to condemn those that run gadding to seek for change abroad, when he has so much variety at home. For most certainly, as the humour varies, the pleasure must be different. Female Insinuation having al­ways had a knack to proportion the acti­vity of their affection according to the na­ture of the gift which they receive; and it is as common a thing to caper and dance out of content and satisfaction, as to leap for joy.

But what shall we say of those that re­gret the opening of their Purse-strings to legal Matrimony, yet never grudge the bot­tom of their Bags to an imperious and la­vish Mistress? As if it were not better to suffer a little under the severity, though somewhat more than ordinary expensive, of a lawful Wife, than to suffer the Mar­tyrdom of an Estate, and to be hector'd out of their Gold by a prodigal Strumpet? unjust to their Wives, and sottishly be­witch'd, to deny that to a lawful Wife, which they part withal with so much profuseness to the frowns of their Illegiti­mate Miss. And fools to themselves, to purchase forbidden Lust, at the dire ex­pence [Page 8]of Reputation and over-late Repen­tance. Yet such there are, that fret and fume, cry they cannot live a quiet hour at home, and bewail the sadness of their Condition, for a little Petticoat-importu­nity of their Wives, but patiently brook the reproaches of a tawdry Quean; and when she expostulates the case, and gives him a Bill of her profuse demands, and cries, Dam her, sink her, does he think she'll live with such a dog-rogue-Pimp as he, for ten pound a week; creeps and cringes, and makes loud Protestations and Vows of ad­vancing her Fortune, to appease her Coun­terfeit wrath. With which when she is a little mollified, though not vouchsaf'd the favour which he came for, away he trud­ges to this Shop and t'other Shop, and in a short time sends her in a whole Caravan of Silks and toys to consummate the atone­ment. And do you think that person was not most severely and unmercifully us'd by a Daughter of Joy, that when he had bar­gain'd with her for a nights dalliance for twenty pound, coming to tell the mony, and finding thirteen-pence-halfpenny wan­ting (for it was Maltsters Cash) forc'd him after he was half unstript, to put on his clothes again, and go half a mile to bor­row [Page 9]half a crown, to make up the sum, and when he had given it her for change, kept that too? Was not this an inhuman piece of Tyranny? & yet the poor Inamorato took it as patient as a lamb, when perhaps he would have lamented the parting with forty shillings to the importunity of his wife, and thought himself undone to pur­chase a new Nuptial night from her at the expence of a single pair of Stays. Such men infinitely degrade themselves, as having lost the more noble Appellation of Whore­masters; and exchang'd it for the ignomi­ous title of Whore-son Slaves. Some are such haughty Roxelana's, that upon the least dis­gust at a Tavern, they will throw the Quart­pot, Wine & all at the submissive Mamma­muchi's pate; nay, & call him Son of a Whore to boot, as if they had both tumbl'd in one belly: Yet he goes home & lies with her all that night, and takes no more notice of his wash'd Cravat, than onely, Why wer't thou so nangry, Molly?

Another sort there are, that rather than see their Wives go garbate and trim, can endure to live in the midst of stench and sluttery. However, they are contented, because the woman does not worry him, as he calls it, for fine Clothes. Perhaps be­cause she was never so well bred as to know [Page 10]how to wear 'em: 'twere ten thousand times better she did. For now she lives onely to convince the world by its con­trary, how great the comfort is which Wedlock receives from the love of Gallan­try, and cleanly spruceness. However, something she would have, but knows not what; 'tis not her stirring about her house, and moyling drudgerie, that keeps her tat­ter'd and Cinder-woman-like. She keeps close in her stie, pouts and lowres, and sends this body and t'other body to the Devil, and will be neither sick nor well. Coming into her Chamber, the first glance of your eye gives you a prospect of her Close-stool open, and her Chamber­pot full-charged; as if she had that high Opinion of her self, that she were some Ci­vet-Cat; or that all which came from her were nothing but Myrrh and Essence of Orange-Flowers. Draw the Curtains, and you behold her lying in a heap, like a Sea-coal-dunghil, but somewhat blacker; and 'tis a hard question to resolve, whether she durtied the sheets, or the sheets durtied her, for they are all alike, smock, head­geer and all, of the same complexion with a Staffordshire Forgers leather Apron. She looks so like a Witch, that you would al­most [Page 11]think her the Walnut-colour'd Gyp­sie that murmur'd out the Oracles of Del­phos. No body can dress her but Hercules, because she is first to be cleans'd; and no body can cleanse her, but he that cleans'd the Augean Stable. Therefore she con­verses with no body, nor any body with her: Onely she has this good quality, that she is constant to her Husband, because no body else dares come near her.

You'll say I am run into the Extremes; 'tis requisite women should go decent and near, but not above their Husbands Estates. Who shall be judge of that? the proos of the pudding, the man's undone; yet no body can say, by his Wife. Or if a man have a mind to be undone for his Wife, what's that to any body? his Marriage is never a whit the more discomfort to him, if he think it not so. And for the woman, she has no reason to complain; she cannot eat her Cake, and have her Cake.

However, all this while, where is the discomfort of Marriage? Marriage cannot be said to be the occasion of this mans un­doing or misfortune. Wedlock is too sa­cred an Institution, to be so scandalously reproach'd. But some men have got a trick to conceal the infirmities of their E­states; [Page 12]you shall never know what they are worth, till they break or dye. They will never let their wives understand the intrinsick Value of their Coffers, but boast continually of their gettings, and their in­comes; how much they got such a mor­ning, how much such a day. And women proportion their demands according to the measures of what they hear or see; belie­ving what their Husbands swear and lie to is all Gospel. So that the men have no reason to be angry, if their credulous wives, desirous to credit their Husbands, and to keep up their Port and Quality, and therefore covetous of a little gay apparel, by which the world generally makes its conjecture, are so gentile and generous as to place and fix their own delight in their Husbands Reputation and advantage; and may thank themselves if the women sur­pass the limits of their Abilities. For it is natural in all women of life and spirit, and refin'd Education, to love that which sets them forth to the best advantage, and ren­ders them most amiable.

Neither must we expect that all women should be she-Philosophers, or so devoutly given, to throw off the love of pomp and vanity incident to youth, upon their [Page 13]being Married; as if they were entring into a Nunnery, when they first entred their Husbands doors. Friends and Relations are not to be banish'd from the Habitations of Marryed men; and it is better the wife should appear rather over garbated, than too mean; rather lac'd, than patcht and greasie. And truly, as the times go, 'tis but reason that men should bestow a little more cost than ordinary, or than perhaps formerly they did, that we may be able to know the Mistress from the Maid, and not run into the mistake of saluting the servant for the woman of the House.

'Tis said, that Cloaths are a certain In­dication of the Disposition of the person that wears them. A Woer in the addresses which he makes to his Mistress, may soon give a shrewd conjecture at her temper by her Habit. Pride, Prodigality, Sluttery, ill­nature, all discover themselves in her dress and carriage; especially when she is in her full trim. Pride shews it self in richness of Laces, prodigality in the vanity of Ribbons, and not knowing the price of what she wears when she is askt. Sluttery appears in tawdry, and ill nature in disorder and carelesness. So that if a man make an ill choice, 'tis his own fault.

Oh but the Charms of her face or her Portion are such, that he dyes for the sake of her black brows, or her fifteen hun­dred pounds, if he have her not. Then I hope if he have her, he has the main comfort of Matrimony he expected, not valuing all other inconveniences, compar'd to the possession of what he enjoys. Which being so, 'tis not just in him to come with his after-reckonings: nor is it any real cause of complaint or disquiet, that she duns him for the same Port and Garb, nay, though it be more, which she could have maintain'd without him. For women by Marriage expect to meliorate their condi­tion, and not to loare the Sails of their Maiden-pomp. So that now enjoying his desir'd comforts, he ought to let the Wo­man have her comforts also, which she had so fairly paid for, by the surrender of her person and her Portion. If she have nothing certainly he Married purely out of love and affection, believing there was no great felicity or comfort in this world, be­yond the possession of her person; and then I fear me, that person is forsworn every day, that does not give her more than she demands.

There is a story in Matchiavel, that a lit­tle before his time, the Devil came upon earth to choose him a wife, and that at length he found one out to his mind, and marryed her; but that among all the plagues with which she tormented him, there was none more put him to his plun­ges (being at a certain allowance from the grand master of Hell) than her Expences. What's this to the purpose? this is but one single instance, and one swallow does not make a summer. It may be the De­vil met with his match. But we are not to bring a general accusation against Mar­riage, for the follies of a few.

Commend old stern Cato to the Female Sex. He was their friend in a corner, and said, that he that gave them offence was to be prosecuted with as much vehemence, as he that violated the Images of the God­desses. We grant that some women may be extravagant and lavish; but set the Hares foot to the Goose giblets; compare the good that they do, with their little ex­travagancies, and see which surmount. We do not presently wring off a hens neck for breaking a Venice-glass, because we ex­pect she should lay us more eggs, and hatch us more Chickens of twice the value.

Neither does it follow, because a woman is a little expensive in Cloaths, that she may not be chast, vertuous, and in other things sufficiently frugal too: there is a fru­gality in expence, and that frugal expence it is, that scatters the Coyn of a Nation, which hoarded up, does no body no good.

Wives are not impos'd upon men, but chosen; and he is a fool, and betrays his own folly too, in lamenting an act of his own, of which he can never repent but in vain.

But she louts and pouts, she mumbles and grumbles all day, and at night turns tayl abed, and won't let him —unless— and all the reason in the world. For the wealth of a Family ought to be common to both. And therefore a wife has just cause to be offended, and to shew her dis­gust, if the Husband deny her that, which she has as much right to bestow on her self, as he has to give her. He denies her her due, and she denies him his. So that in this case, 'tis not the effect of Matrimo­ny, but his own peevish injustice that occa­sions his disquiet. For, take away the cause, the effect ceases.

But she demands more than his Estate will produce. He toyls and moyls, and [Page 17]runs and goes, and labours and sweats, and takes care, yet nothing will content her. Those things should have been concerted at first. However, 'tis a sign she had ra­ther have it by fair than by fowl means; rather from him than from another. Other­wise, had she a design to be supply'd ano­ther way, she would never trouble him. If it be true which he says, that she does really overcharge him, has he not the law in his own hands? But this is the mischief on't, all men desire rich wives; and when they have them, know no bounds of moderation at first, but spend as if they thought the bag had no bottom. The woman, as she finds it at first, believes the same golden age will still continue. So that when she comes to be stinted, and finds the suddain alteration, no wonder she takes it impatiently, as one that not ha­ving seen the accompt stated, cannot be perswaded she has had her share in the dis­sipation of her fortune. Better it were then, that men would seek out wives sui­table to their condition, and not run prol­ling after great Fortunes, not regarding the fitness of the person for their society and employment, but the largeness of the Portion, let her be otherwise Prodigal, or [Page 18]Slut, or what she will. The Boarding-Schools are ransackt, the Prerogative-Of­fice rumag'd from one end to the other; and if they hear of a prey, all the Arts and Inventions of the Devil, Midwives, Nur­ses, Chambermaids, and other suttle instru­ments of insinuation and temptation are set at work to ensnare the poor unthink­ing Gentlewoman. And what comes on't? if the intelligence were real, Law-suits, Prosecutions, and Divorces. If not, quiet Possession, the womans friends overjoy'd they are rid of her, and when all comes to all, both cheated. Then after the heat is a little over, the main business begins to be scann'd; inquiry is made, tip-toe expe­ctations on both sides. But when the lame discovery comes limping out, then how is the darling of his Soul cursed and bann'd, and the Match-maker damn'd, and the deaf devil invok'd to take 'em both! But there is no remedy; the Thumb is ring'd, that must not long en­joy that golden Hoop; and so the deluded Couple consume away in unpaid-for Lodg­ings, and the poor Chandlers debt.

Sometimes two grave Beard-stroakers meet with their Legem pone-Law, and at length conclude a Match by way of bar­gain [Page 19]and sale; and so the young Couple are at last marryed by Indenture.

But if any inconveniences arise from these corruptions of Matrimony, they are not to be lookt upon as the discomforts of lawful Wedlock, but as the punishments of rash and greedy riot, or the long ex­perienc'd inconveniences of Smithfield-bar­ter.

But lawful Matrimony, which is the ef­fect of choice and mature consideration of the mutual temper and affection of both parties, that's the true Matrimony, that seldome misses the end it aims at; where differences between Husband and Wife, like discords in Musick, render the harmony of their society more sweet and delectable; and where those little quarrels about new Gowns and Petticoats do but whet the Appetite, or else awak'n the slumbring kindness of the Husband.

As for stealing of Fortunes, and tolling of wives in the Market; they are Matches generally of Monsieur Satans making; and theresore if they be accompani'd with ruine and misfortune, 'tis no great wonder. For Vertue, Honour, Chastity, Diligence, and good Education, are the chief Dowrie to be lookt after in a wife. And for such, let [Page 20]them wear Tissue, if they desire it; and they'l never desire it, if it may not be afforded them.

THE Second Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

BUt the Charge does not end it seems in this; there are other Expences of ano­ther nature; Stratagems and Collusions of Gossips one among another, that make the poor mans night-cap fit uneasie. And this Expence is of a long continuance, from the first Quickning, to the last cere­mony of Churching. But here, give me leave to tell ye, beloved, that if there be any discomfort in Marriage, 'tis the wo­man that feels it, and not the man.

The rolling and tumbling of the little Embryo, twinges her every moment; the qualms of breeding run through every vein of her body, more particularly af­fecting [Page 21]the stomach, and occasioning that squeamish niceness of Appetite that re­quires a more curious and agree able nou­rishment and refreshment, as well for the Infant as the Breeding woman. Nature also busie in the framing of a new Crea­ture, produces strange operations in Fe­male fancy, which if it be not satisfi'd with the enjoyment of those objects which it has fix'd upon, is the occasion many times of great detriment to the Mother by frequent Miscarriage, and great disfigure­ment to the Child. And then is time for a woman to try the affection of her Hus­band, who must be thought very unkind to venture the life of his dearest Consort for the want of two or three plump Par­tridges, or the corner of a Venison Pa­stie. It would be a mercy unseasonably shewn to his new shoes, or the soles of his feet, to grutch the trudging, though it were ten miles a foot, to obtain so slight a satisfaction to a tender wife, suffering for the sake of his own pleasure. Certainly if there be any content in the delicacy of Viands, that happiness is enhanc'd; and a man can have no greater comfort in Ma­trimony, than to feast and junket with his wife, his best Companion, and his dearest friend.

It is but an ordinary piece of gratitude to indulge the Palate of a teeming woman, and to alleviate the throws of Conception and Maturation with the slender gratifi­cation of a few kick-shaws, knowing how great the return of the fruit which she bears, will be at the end of her time. If nothing less will serve her than a wash­bowl of Claret, if she has a mind to confound a whole Sive of Kentish Cherries, or to deprive a roasting Pig of his Ears, and knaw them off upon her knees from the spit, where's the discomfort of Matri­mony in all this? There's ne'r a man in the world that cares to see his Daughter depriving her sweet-heart of his full kiss, by reason of the piece wanting in her hare­lip: Or to see a red spot over-spreading his Sons check, as if Nature had wrapt him up in natural Scarlet, for a continual pain in the Gums. And all this for want of a pitiful forty shillings-worth of green pease in April. Men never consider the Crowns and Angels they throw away in their pot-revelling, and Healthing it at the Tavern; their Collations at the Rum­mer, with Salmon and old Hock, their Hashes and Potages at the Bear in Birchin­lane; while they grudge the poor Teeming [Page 23]woman at home, under the affliction of their nocturnal satisfaction, the bare so­lace of a single Cony, and a penny white­loaf.

Oh! —but then there must be a new Alkove, with a deep Silk Fringe; there must be a Scarlet Satten Mantle for the new-born Babe, with a broad gold and silver bone-lace; there must be a Court-Cup­board cover'd with Tankards and Caudle-cups of Goldsmiths work; and then the Gossips come in in shoales, and devour like Aethiopian Locusts. There must be Neats-Tongues, and Westphalia Hams, piles of Oranges and Lemmons, and Mountains of Woodstreet Plum-cakes. Neither must the French and Spanish Juyces be wanting to wash these sorrows from their Female Hearts. The women prate and chat and tattle too, and give ill Counsel, and bad Instructions. They discover by what means and ways they obtained it, and what an Arbitrary power they have at home. Now where's the discomfort of Matrimony in all this? here's nothing but mirth and comfort it self; pure rejoycing for the birth of a Man-child. Would you be willing to be Landlord to a Comfit-maker, and not have him pay his Rent? [Page 24]Then for Gossips to meet, nay to meet at a lying in, and not to talk, you may as well dam up the Arches of London-Bridge, as stop their mouths at such a time. 'Tis a time of freedom, when women, like Par­liament-men, have a priviledge to talk Pet­ty Treason. And he's an Ignoramus of a Husband, that will not pass an act of obli­vion for the Trespasses of a Christning Banket.

Women are sociable Creatures as well as men; and if they can't talk Philosophy, they must talk of that which they better understand.

I never heard but of one man, an Itali­an Painter, who was made believe that he was with Child; who was so apprehen­sive of the trouble and pangs of Delivery, that having but a hundred pound in all the world, he gave it all a Physitian for a di­still'd water of fat Capons, and other In­gredients, to cure him of his burden. The fellow that had his Brother growing out of his side, found it an unmerciful trouble to lug him about.

Men must acknowledge that women have done them a most extraordinary kindness, to ease them of that ponderous weight of Infant-carriage. And therefore [Page 25]since they have all the trouble, 'tis fit they should have some retaliation and al­leviation of their pains. And therefore they that make these Expences the discom­forts of Matrimony, are onely such as de­sire an end of the world for want of Pro­creation. For they are such necessary and incumbent appurtenances to the act of Ge­neration, that you may as well separate the Sea from a mouth of a River, as part expence from the Chamber of Delivery. For man is Lord of the world, and of all the Creatures, and therefore it is fit that as much of the Creature as may be, should attend him at his first entry. These are therefore laudable Expences; and there can be no discomfort in doing that which is laudable and honourable.

These are nothing to the discomforts of the secret sinner. The first thing that salutes him in a morning, going to drink his mor­nings draught, (and he had need of it, Hea­ven knows, to wash sorrow from his heart) is an old woman, that drops him a curt­sey, and gives him a little piece of Foul Paper, ill folded up, and seal'd with the end of a Thumb. Sir, quoth she, it comes—well, well, I know, 'tis sufficient, —well, but Sir, quoth she,—well—well [Page 26]—no more, quoth he—But Sir,—and then she gives him the doleful whisper,— The Gentlewoman is in great distress for want of Money; she expects every hour, and the people threaten to turn her out of her Lodging. —Oh the comforts of Whoring then, how they slide to his benumm'd heart, and car­ry a chilness through his blood, like the juyce of Henbane! Ale will not then go down; a Tost and Sack must be the Cor­dial, which taken liberally at first, causes him to indulge himself into a forgetfulness of the business for that day. But the next morning, fresh Terrours assail his thoughts. Sometimes he thinks he sees a little bundle of unfortunate Innocence lying at his door; sometimes he believes he sees the same witherd-fac'd Messenger that brought him the first Letter discoursing with his wife; loss of Reputation amuses him. The ve­ry thoughts of a Church-warden, and finding Security, drives him almost to de­spair. Well, something must be done. A­way he takes a disconsolate march about the streets, and at length the sign of the Cradle in a by-hole, revives his drouping Soul. In he goes, and fortunately finding the she-professor of Iniquities Mystery, to her unfolds his deplorable misfortune. The [Page 27]demands run high, besides Lodging and Candles, a dry and a wet Nurse, and all ready money, no faith. And that pinches hard, to pay so high for illegitimate Touch and go. Summa totalis 200 l. and a week­ly Contribution of four shillings, besides Barrows, Clouts, Coats, diminutive shooes, Sugar and Candles. All things concluded, in pops the light Houswife in the dark out of her close Sedan, and goes for the wise of a bad Husband gone beyond Sea; only the compassion of her friend is such, that his charity will not let her want.

All this while there is no contract or bargain that will bind these Purse-sucking bauds; for the threatning to lay the Child at the door, is such a terrible thunder-clap to his ears, and the Jades do so haunt him, that he may be truly said to live a continu­al slave to their necessities: which must of force be a great consolation to his mind over the left shoulder.

Whereas the Expences belonging to the lawful Marriage-bed, bring no such vexati­ons to the Mind; as being only the occasi­on of mirth and jollity among the Neigh­borhood, and gain the reputation of ge­nerosity and kindness to the Husband.

And thus you find the Country Far­mers feast their Harvest-folks and sheep­shearers after their work is over. The en­durance of pain and travel that brings ad­vantage, ought to be recompenced to the full. And it is not the kind and becoming Treatment of a Wife, to retaliate her yearly presents of lawful Issue, that can disquiet a loving Husband, but the paying for a Bastard, and the subjection he lives in to the concealers of his Infamy, that cause a fermentation in his thoughts, and make his very life uneasie to him.

I had almost forgot one thing more; there's the Spiritual Court too, if he have not a great care to prevent it, will have a considerable fleece from his back to boot. And is't not a great comfort to a man, d'ye think, to stand in the face of his whole Pa­rish, and more Spectators than came to hear the Parson, lapt up in a white sheet all but his face, as Spirits walk by mid­night? and all for sporting between un­lawful sheets, which though two to one, will never be able to wipe of the disgrace of the single shroud. So great a blemish may a man receive from white as well as from charcoal black, while the white sheet discovers what the white sheets were made [Page 29]to conceal. My dear friends consider these things.

THE Third Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

WEll—and what then?—why when a man has got a woman within the Pale of Matrimony, she is then like a Mess of Porridge. And there is no man has got his dish of broath well crumm'd and season'd for his own Palate, but will be very angry if another come with his long spoon to eat it up from him. The most surly maintainer of Liberty and Property, in the case of Matrimony, will not allow those two words to associate together; for assuming all the property to himself, he will not admit of any liberty to the wo­man.

If a Gentleman with a Sword by his side, and flaring Cravat, with Fring'd [Page 30]Gloves, be observ'd to visit his wife, pre­sently 'tis look'd upon as an ill sign: if he Coach her abroad, 'tis ten times worse, for that, by the custom of the City, the women are never to shew their best cloaths but onely on Sundays, or upon solemn invitations to Burials and Christnings. The Vicinity being thus in an uproar, some cunning, Mantissimus busie-body or other undertakes, out of good will, as he calls it, to come and give his Neighbour prudent advice, as being a young man that had not seen the world; and so most gravely and right reverendly, over the expence of eight brass farthings, at a penny club, forewarns and admonishes him of the mischiefs that hang over his head.

This friendly advice puts a hundred maggots into the Husbands head, when Heaven knows, all was well before. So that if the poor man be troubled after­wards with a tingling in his ears, or worms in his pate, he may thank that imper­tinent intelligence of his officious neigh­bour, and not his wife for it. For it ar­gues a great folly in a man, not to bid such an impertinent admonitor go about his own business; rather choosing to live free from tittle tattle, and to stand fair in [Page 31]the opinion of the flipperous Town-Fle­bergebits, than to keep himself quiet at home, by letting his wife go abroad now and then with a friend.

'Tis observ'd, that women seldom think ill, till their Husbands dream it first. By trusting a woman, you lay an obligation upon her; by distrusting her, you put her upon those little revenges which perhaps she never thought of before. Thus it was the great argument which the Spanish Lady us'd to her self, that she had not done much amiss to admit her Page into her Bed, be­cause she knew that her Husband was a bed with an Inn-keepers Daughter of the Town, at the same time. So that he who keeps his wife under a causeless restraint, lays the trains himself that blow up his content, and then lays the fault upon Matrimony.

He that carries her to a Feast, must be her gallant; that's indubitable. But he that carries her to a Play or a Ball, com­mits abomination, and is presently to be Excommunicated from the House. So ready are the Mote-spiers in other peoples eyes, to squander away the content and reputation of their Neighbours; and yet would be the first that would complain, [Page 32]were they so hamper'd themselves.

Therefore say the Doctors in Love-Af­fairs, that a woman which is kept as it were under lock and key, and made to re­nounce all her former acquaintance after Marriage, is half gain'd: and your true gamesters must generally prey where con­troul and tyranny are most sowre and se­vere.

But these Kinsmen, you'l say, are no Kinsmen, but men in the shape of Kins­men; and what ever the pretence be, the design is quite another thing, and the Kinsman and the wife concert together. Why, look ye for this, 'tis a general custom in England, and many other places, when Locks go hard to oyl 'em. If the humour of a morose Husband be so stingie and rustie, that it will not easily give way, it must be oyl'd with fair pretence and cle­ver invention. 'Tis a happiness to him, that he has not Marry'd the contempt of the world, but that he has a wife who de­servedly merits the respect of others be­sides himself. There is no man that has any thing of generosity, but that to some, and at some times, lends out the most pre­tious part of his wealth, his Horse, his sil­ver-hilted Sword, and his Guineys to boot. [Page 33]And is it such a piece of matter sometimes to lend out the good company and cheer­ful society of his wise, so long as she's safely returned again? Should men be bound to confess the cheats and shams they put upon their wives, when they have been potting and piping, and Shovel-boarding it till twelve a clock a night, and pretend they have been dunning this Knight, or t'other Lady, they would think it a hard case. 'Tis nothing for a man that has been a Caterwawling all day, and comes home with a weeping Flagelet, to tell her a story of straining his back in taking a ditch after a Hare; but the mollified excuse of a Kinsman to go abroad with her, must be a crime never to be forgiven. For it must be a Kinsman, or else her Lord and Master will not let her go. As if a Kins­man were such a guard to womans honesty; when if we rightly consider'd it, the Pro­verb tells us, The nearer akin, the deeper in. So then 'tis not the going abroad, nor the going abroad with a Kinsman, which is the discomfort of Matrimony; but 'tis his own fears and suspitions that muddle his brains.

If I lend my gay Sword to a friend, and he happens to wound another in a Duel [Page 34]with it, yet if he return it bright and clear, my Sword is never the worse. What the eye sees not, the heart never rues; why should then a man torment himself, when he cannot perceive the least injury done him; not so much as the value of a hair taken from him? On the other side, it is the comfort of Matrimony, that a man is the owner of a wife admir'd for her Con­verse and Education, which signifie little, unless communicated to several, and not singly to one. Men do not marry to bury their wives alive in a house; and it is an ornament to their Husbands Reputation, when they do not make themselves con­temptible by silly behaviour, but respected for their complaisance and acceptable free­ness. And a man had better be over-in­dulgent to his wife in point of liberty, than be accounted her Jaylor. In short, 'tis a greater comfort of Matrimony to have a wife that loves to go abroad, rather than one that lyes lurking at home. For she that keeps her kennel, is a continual spie over his actions, and has always a whither go ye at her tongues end; whereas the t'other lets the man take his lopes as she takes hers.

But who can keep his Mistress from gad­ding, though he pay her never so well? Where's your Empire and Dominion there Sir? she scorns the domineering Cully; values not his sowre looks, nor comes to ask leave. But has her Chariots at her wink to trundle her about the Town among her Jacks and her Jills, while she frolicks away the spoils of his unruly heat. Fatal scaperloytring sometimes, that frequent­ly brings the lascivious Prodigal more than Circumcis'd from the Surgeon, and sends him Noseless to the grave.

THE Fourth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

BUt now, Matrimony, have at thee with a swinging blow. Thou art the Pro­duct of Children, and the worst of Chil­dren, Daughters that live and grow up, and expect Portions, and the Devil a cross there's for 'em. However, besides the Charge of the Boarding-School, there must be fine Cloaths to quicken the Market; and the Mother would fain be a Grand­mother, but cannot. And this, they pre­tend, breeds ill blood, wrangling, and snar­ling, and quarrelling, and twits and taunts, and I know not what disorder in a Family. But they must certainly be a very weak sort of women, that make these disturban­ces, and consequently very few: nor ought they indeed to be disturbances to any man of reason. For the comfort of Matrimony [Page 37]is so great in the having of Children, that it surmounts all other Considerations. And he that has the greatest stock, may be said to have a vast Estate of his own Flesh and Blood. But the real discomforts of Marri­age then clamour loudest, and give the bitterest twinges to the heart, when the man is reproached for his Impotency, or the woman tax'd for imperfection; which puts the woman into such a passion, that she never rests till she has found where the fault lyes. And I hope that woman can­not blame her Husband for not providing for that which is none of his own. There­fore you see the Form of the English Ma­trimony starts a notable Question about the Impediment; to shew that the end of Mar­riage is the Generation of Children, not of Cloaths nor Portions. Yet those are Cir­cumstances not to be altogether forgotten neither. However, the great Lady that call'd all her Gallants to her bed-side when she lay a dying, and assign'd to every one his share, is a convincing Argument that a man may toil and moil, and cark and care, and when he has done, bestow the sweat of his brows in the wrong Christmas-box. Let a man be sure not to fail a woman in the main poynt of the Impediment, and he [Page 38]may be sure he has some, though not all, nay it may be his share in all; let'um share all alike higgledy piggledy, give 'um good breeding and good Education. She that carries that to her Husband, carries a Por­tion as good as a Thousand pounds. Her skill in raising a Turky or a Goose-Pye, is clearly to be valu'd at the rate of two hun­dred pound; her knowledge in marketting is worth two hundred pounds more, and her skill in preserving at the other hun­dred pound; there's as good as five hun­dred pound of the Kings best Coyn in England. Portions ruine more than they make: He that marries a wife for the Por­tions sake, buys a Concubine, does not mar­ry a wife. Do but let us have good Pro­testant Nunneries to lay up the lame and the deformed, and then divide the Money to the Sons, and you shall quickly see the young brisk Lads pick and cull out the rest, as we do Cherries, till there be none left. If it be the discomfort of Matrimony, that a man is not able to give his Daughter a Postion, 'tis a greater discomfort to him to see his Daughter return'd upon his hands, like a Bromigeham-groat, after the consum­ption of his Benevolence; which if he had never had to part withal, the had never [Page 39]been under that discomfort. Neither is it safe always to divulge what a man intends to give his Daughter; for if that be once given out, then comes one smooth-chinn'd slipstring or other, and makes a Pye-comes ensurance of his affection upon her belly.

There are some young Damsels that take too much notice of Men, when they turn to the wall, and that very carelesly too, to make water; which puts 'um into such an uncontroulable passion, that for haste they fall in league with the Groom or the Butler, and run away with 'um.

There are some men that will fit at a Tavern and take off glass for glass with their pin feather'd Sons, and never rebuke 'um, when they hear 'um cry—God—d— me, Sir, you don't drink fair, be G— Sir, I drank last. Some there are that make if their sport, and look on without offence, to see the young Squire kiss and tumble the Vintners Cook-maid before their fa­ces.

Now these are all hopeful, as they call 'um, such as may be easily thought can shift for themselves without Portions; such as can swim in the world without the blad­ders of Dowries and Annuities.

And therefore never let men or women [Page 40]trouble their brains about Portions; for if their Sons and their Daughters are truly sensible of their inability, they can [...] [...] nother way to the wood of themselves. Women are not aware that fine Cloaths, and the assurance of Portion, spoil the Daughters Sunday-Devotion at Church. And then for the Week-day Morning-pray­ers, a lac'd Night-fail and a long scars sets 'um equal with the best. And what occa­sion have they of gadding any farther a­broad?

Therefore 'tis no discomfort of Matri­mony to be wife-dunn'd for Childrens Por­tions; for the recreation and pleasure is as great to see the Ingenuity of his Children in shifting for themselves, as to stand upon the soyl, and see a Hare dance and double before the Hounds.

If all this will not stop the Womans mouth, the man may tell her, That the Lacedemonians made a Law that no man should give any Portion with his Daugh­ter. It may be she'll say, she does not care a f— [...] for the Lacedemonians; Then you may tell her what a good Lady Venus was, who permitted the Cyprian Damsels to suffer all strangers to make use of their bodies till they had got enough to marry [Page 41]'um honestly; and ask her how she likes this Project for her Daughters? For if a woman will have a Portion for her Daugh­ter where it cannot be had, she must ferch it out of the fire. When the young bird's flown, the old one never takes farther care of her. You never knew an old Rook give a Portion to the young one; onely you may find they gave 'um good learning and Education, and so leave 'um. Observe but the Temple-Garden. Therefore, O most indulgent Mothers, cease your Clacks, and let not Matrimony be reproached for your sakes, with a discomfort, which well con­sidered brings both belight and advantage to your Husbands.

THE Fifth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

COme, come, — we'll soon determine this Controversie; Here's an old old man has married a young young woman; and because he cannot give her the least content, she seeks for aid and assistance else­where. As I told you before, 'tis a nota­ble question, that in the Form of Marriage, about the Impediment. The Husband is called to answer for himself, and the standers by are bid and charg'd to speak their minds; yet not one will open his mouth, when they know the old Dottrel to have no more pith in his back than an El­der-gun. And thus the young Gentlewo­man, all fire and high-mettel'd, is deluded and frustrated of all her Expectations. And this is a wrong not to be repair'd by all the Darling-Gold in his Coffers. Her [Page 43]Parents might have as well have married her to an Eunuch, or the Statue of Pria­pus.

'Twas a most insufferable injury done to one of the most flourishing Beauties in one of the adjoyning Counties, for a Gentleman to marry her when he was not onely impotent, but defective. I tell ye this, to shew ye the Convenience of Lyeur­gus's Law about Deputy-Kinsmen. How­ever, such was the modesty of the Lady, that she never discover'd her misfortune, and so dy'd a married Virgin. He might have gone over ten Counties, and not have met with such a Phoenix.

Say you, the remedy is worse than the disease, 'tis contrary to Law— I will not argue the point of Law— but I say, here are pregnant excuses that mollifie and ex­tenuate the fact. Here is a disappoint­ment of Nature it self, here is the loss of offpring, and the highest violation imagi­nable of the Nuptial bed. Now give me leave to tell ye a story; for I think I have one in my budget fit for the purpose.

There was a very fine Lady that liv'd in a great City of Italy, who had the misfor­tune to be taken a bed in the arms of her Lover. Her Husband like an old fool [Page 44]grew horn-mad presently, and would needs take the severity of the Law against her, which was no less than Death. There wanted no proof you may be sure on the Husbands part; however, the Lady came very clearly off, by her own discretion. For said she to the Judge, Pray ask my Hus­band, whether ever I deny'd him the satis­faction of my body whenever he requir'd it? The Husband confess'd what she said to be very true. Well then, my Lord, re­plied the Lady, what should I have done with the over-plus that remain'd in my own power? should I have cast it away, like the Elders Maid? Was it not better for me to pleasure a worthy Gentleman that was ready to dye for love of me, than a surfeited Husband, that had ten times more than he knew what to do withal? Where lies now the discomfort of an old mans marrying a young Lady all fire and tow? He lies at [...]ack and Manger, and has his full swinge of all the pleasure and com­fort that he is in any possibility capable of. 'Tis the poor Lady that suffers a continual famine, that lies yawning and stretching for more; but all in vain: the springs of life and vigour are all dried up. Limberness and Frigitidy are the onely fuel that feed [Page 45]her youthful flames. Her amorous fires kindled by the Embers of his droo­ping years, grow violent, and prey up­on her lusty blood. And is it not time to call out for help, when hardly the spout in a Whales neck will serve to send forth strems sufficient to quench her inward fires?

Nor can ye blame her for the refusal of his conjugal Kindness at some times. For as he is her Husband, she is not bound to kill him with over-doing. She has more good Nature. Or if by flattery and dal­liance she milk the udders of his Golden Heifers, 'tis but reason he should pay for his pleasure, who can afford her no other Retaliation.

If she seek her relief with prudence and secresie, 'tis but common discretion; and she may be allow'd to take fees a both hands, when no body can determine the cause but her self.

He that cannot keep Shop by himself, may be glad of a Copartner to joyn with him. And it may be a Question, whether she that neglects the aid of necessary resto­ratives in this case, may not be said to be a felo de se, and to be the occasion of her own death, by confining her self to the [Page 46]steams of a Church-yard all night, and all day conversing with a walking Charnel-House. These are not only discomforts, but terrours and affrights: and you may commend her valour too, as well as her pa­tience, to lye with an apparition.

But what may we think of those de­crepit half-pint Lechers, who being as sapless as a dry'd Fennel-stalk, yet you may dog them shuffling along with their crickling hams, till they pop into one of their old haunts of iniquity. Where they dall for Vice to correct Sin, for forgetting their former Lessons of Lasciviousness. While the sturdy Queen belabours their buttocks, till their impotent wimbles peep out of their bellies to beg a reprieve for their Tayls.

There are some, that when their other Tackle fails 'em, love to fornicate with their eyes. And such a one was he, that when he could hardly draw his legs after him, but with the help of two Church-pillars instead of C [...]che [...], yet could not forbear to make his evening visits to a com­men Bowdier house i'the Town, where his whole relight was, over two black pots of Ale, to behold the naked Harches of a strapping black-brow'd Quean; which she [Page 47]all daub'd with sut as she stood opposite to him, bolt upright in the Chimney, like the Idol Mol [...]ck, all bedript with the fat of his Infant-Offerings.

I could tell ye of another grave Father in sin, whose invention was much more odd and fantastical and much more charge­able. For he had always a leash, or a leash and a half of young Queans in his pay, whom he always treated in a great room, with a roasting fire, and a Table furnish'd with all the Delicates of the Poulterers shops. Where when they came to supper, they were to enter and sit down as naked as they were born, and fall to merrily, while he as naked as they, crept under the Table, and there lay erring and snarling like a Dog, and snapping sometimes at their shins, and sometimes at their feet, sometimes at their thighs, and cranching the bones which they threw him down from their Trenchers.

Now if it be such a discomfort of Ma­trimony for an impotent Curmudgeon that has Marry'd a vigorous Damsel to her in­finite injurie, to admit of a friendly Co­adjutor, here are pleasant remedies and in­ventions found out for him, which he may make use of for the ease and solace [Page 48]of her discontent; but never let him be disquieted at what his young brisk and dis­satisfy'd wife does; when he is the only occasion of all she does himself.

Rather, if an old Hunks without life or vigour, have such an inclination to leache­ry, let him in imitation of the former ex­amples, please those senses which are least defective, and not go about to make a young and better-deserving Gentlewomans life miserable and loathsome to her, where she expects her greatest felicity and enjoy­ment.

THE Sixth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

WHat's the matter now? why now we're all to pieces again. Here's a wife with a wannion,—she'l dine when she pleases, she'l sup when she plea­ses; nay, she'l neither dine nor sup when she pleases: she'l command the servants, be Mi­stress of Mis-rule; she questions all comers and goers, breaks open her Husbands Let­ters,—Hoyda,—and what of all this? why 'tis the greatest discomfort as can be, to have such a woman as this. Now is not this Husband a Ninnie to complain of such a wife? 'tis pitty exchange is not permit­ted by the Law. Why there are men that would give him their own wives, and a thousand pound to boot, for such a woman as this. By my Fakins he's shrewdly hurt, to have a wife that frees him from all his Family-cares. Who should question peo­ples [Page 50]business, but she who is able to give 'em an answer? who should command his servants, but she who has authority so to do? But she won't eat her dinner,—why then let her let it alone. You may be sure she'l never starve her self; and having such a command i'the House, she knows the way to the outboard herself. But not with him. Then let him eat by himself: it shews great and Majestical, so that his ser­vants be but about him. But she breaks open his Letters. What? are they Billet doux's, or assignations? if they be, he's a fool to let them come home to his House. For 'tis the nature of women to be peeping; and the Poet says, Though you thrust na­ture back with a Pitch-fork, she will re­turn.

But that which grieves him most, is, that she is so stingie and waspish, notwithstand­ing all his courtship and kindness. Alas! that does but feed the humour. 'Tis like drinking Claret to cure sore Eyes. Womens humours are like the Gout. You may use a thousand remedies, and all to no purpose, till the pain and swelling wear off of themselves. Besides, you may be certain, whatever humour possesses a wo­man, that humour pleases her. Therefore [Page 51]let her enjoy it; 'tis not the part of a kind Husband to court her out of it.

However, this is a most horrible discom­fort, not to be deny'd; when a man sends home to his wife before-hand, and desires him to make provision, because he has some very good friends to come and sup with him. And what then? why then shall she like an undutiful sut as she is, neg­lect all his commands, and not only makes no provision, but sends all the servants out of the way on purpose, to the utter disappointment of him and his friends. Why look ye, if a man wants Govern­ment, he must blame his own folly, not his wife. 'Tis the opinion in such a case of some great Doctors, that a man may take his wife to task, as the world has a genteel soft word for it, to prevent the like miscarriage another time. Daily experi­ence tells us, that when men find their bo­dies over charged with ill humours, they are forc'd to exercise a sort of kind cruel­ty upon their own flesh, and to cut holes in their Armes, Thighs, Legs, and Temples, to let out those ill humours, with the wast of their life-blood. The same reason then that prevails with a man not to spare cru­elty to himself, may excuse him if with [Page 52]more moderation, he onely take his wife to task.

Two Gentlemen travelling upon the road, came at length to a place where they found a Carrier belabouring the sides of a damn'd restie Mare, that would nei­ther go backward nor forward, as if he had been sheathing a Ship with sheet-lead. The Gentleman pitying the poor beast, de­fired the Carrier to be less passionate. The Carrier bid them meddle with their own business, for he knew his Mares dispositi­on better than they. The same night one of the Gentlemen invited his friend home with him, and desired his wife to provide him a handsome Treatment, and told her what he would have; but when Supper came to be serv'd up, there was not only nothing of what he expected, but every thing ill drest and out of order. There­upon, the Gentleman after Supper, in the presence of his friend, took his wife to task, and was so severe, that his friend rebuk'd him, as they had both rebuk'd the Carrier. But the Gentleman returning the Carriers answer, went on, taking his wife to task, till he brought her both to submission, and promise of amendment. You'l say this was Carrier-like. Oh, Sir, you are mista­ken, [Page 53]there's a delight in Correction; that tickles some men extreamly. Else the Presbyterian Parson would never have ta­ken so much pleasure as he did, in whip­ping his Maid. Pedagogues delight in lashing, and are glad when a Boy com­mits a fault, that they may be at their be loved sport. And were it the fashion for Schoolmasters to teach Female Scholars, you should find more whipping than there is.

Well, but on the other side, perhaps the woman may be in no fault neither. For how does she know but that they may be a company of Town-cheats, that have a design to dip themselves in her Husbands shop-book; or else such a sort of wanton Canary-birds, that have wheadled her Husband to give them a treatment at his house, to get an opportunity to make an Intreague with his wife? and therefore she does discreetly to keep out of their way, and lock her self up in her Chamber. That woman is highly to be commended many times, that retires her self, to avoid the opportunities of temptation. You may be sure there's something i'the wind when your flippeting Gallants are so desirous to go home with a man. For otherwise, [Page 54]could not he as well have given 'em a Treat A-la-mode at the Tavern, as trouble his wife with a Supper? And another thing is, men cannot be so merry in womens com­pany; 'tis not so proper to swear and tell baudy stories in the presence of the Mi­stress of the House, as when they're a­mong themselves. Now where's the dis­comfort of Matrimony, because a woman will not expose her self to the inconveni­ency of these perilous times?

But for a poor-spirited Ouf to be cow­baby'd by his Punk; to let her cog and flatter out of him not only his own, but the secrets of his wife; to let her be fa­miliar with his Pockets, read his Notes and Letters, and understand the depth of his concerns; to sit in her Chamber cur­sing, banning, plaguing and poxing his wife, to make Musick in her Ears; to let her break his pate, and burn his Perriwig; nay, and which is worse, to maintain a Strumpet under his wives nose, in her own house, and turn her out of her own bed, to make room for his imperious Harlot; to let her be the Domina fac totum, and Mi­stress of mis-rule over Wife, Servants, and himself, and all: These are the precious comforts of Whoring, beloved, that may [Page 55]be born with, when the sullen look of a wife must be reckon'd among the Fifteen Discomforts of Matrimony.

Most certainly such a woman lives under all the discomforts imaginable, to see a ranting Concubine usurping her authority, and ruling the rost within her own Terri­tories. No man can suffer any such incon­veniences from the pouting and scowling of a wife. Neither are men so free from pee­vish and morose themselves, that they should think a little doggedness in their wives such a terrible calamity. Physici­ans give those Medicines which are proper for the distemper. And many times a wo­man finds her Husband very costive in the Purse. Now if a Husband be such a Coxe, to let his wife understand his infirmity, and that a dram or two of powting will put him into a kind-hearted looseness, you may be sure she'l never forgo her Probatum est. I had rather a woman should frown and hang the lip, then collogue and flatter; for under that grass lurks the most dange­rous Serpent.

A woman that only scowles and lowts, has but one string to her bow; and a lit­tle train of resolution defeats her: but the cunning tongue-pad Slut, like a Mole of a [Page 56]Gypsie, undermines the very heart of a man, and blows up all his constancy. Sullenness is only a tryal of skill, and may miss as well as hit. But flattery is meer Witchcraft, and unresistable. Sullen­ness puts a man to ask the reason, and ma­ny times he finds it: But flattery admits of no consideration. Good Government prevents sullenness; but flattery is a charm against discretion.

THE Seventh Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

ANd is it possible that a woman should live so long honest with her Husband, and turn drab at last? However here's but a piece of a discomfort; the Scene chang­ed; exit Wife, enter Devil. And the cause of this is, because she has taken a surfeit of Husband. In this case— give me leave to scratch first— I think we are not to judge over-hastily of this affair. All her Spring and Summer she liv'd like a Diana; but toward her Autumn the leaves of her affection turn'd Fueillemot. Truly in this the woman does no more than what whole Nations do, I mean the Tar­tars and Seythians, who when they have graz d up one Country, seek fresh Pa­stures in another. She finds the heart of her Husbands vigour worn out, as Farmers [Page 58]do their grounds, and therefore lets him lie fallow a while, to try if he can recover his strength. You say, 'tis a surfeit— Very good. Then take this for a rule, if a man have eaten Lampreys liberally for nine years together, and surfeit in the tenth, his Phy­sician will not admit him to feed upon that dyer any more. Surfeits are dange­rous; and the surfeit of a long thing with one eye, may be as deadly, as the surfeit of a long thing with nine eyes. Change your Cock, was a piece of advice once given to a Lady, by a person of eminent gravity and preferment. That was upon a complaint of ineffectual conjunction: However, good advice is not confin'd to one single Occasi­on.

Having deeply ponder'd all these consi­derations, the woman lays out for ano­ther convenient Mate, and by good luck meets with one; opens her grief, and finds Compassion. By the way, here is a wo­man griev'd; and persons agriev'd are al­ways the Objects that Compassion is in search for. As you man find by all the stories of the Seven Champions, Don Bellianis of Greece, the Knight of the Burning Pestle, and a hundred more. Now this person had been no true Knight, had he stifled so [Page 59]noble a Vertue, since it was in him, as his Compassion. So great a happiness it is when Grief and Compassion meet toge­ther, and so glad is Compassion of doing its Office. Both which centring in aliquo Tertio, strangely redound to the good For­tune of the forsaken Husband, that his fri­gidity should prove the occasion of the so lucky meeting of Grief and Compassion. All which consider'd, the woman could be in no fault; for she was cerainly aggriev'd: and grief naturally seeks redress. Nor could the Gentleman be in a fault, by rea­son of his charity and generosity in relie­ving the distressed. But you'll say, Ver­tue seeks no corner, and Truth is always naked. Neither do I believe but the truth of this business was as naked as you could wish or desire. Why then did the wo­man not reveal her distress and relief to her Husband? but endeavour to blind him with her flim-flam-stories, and make him believe she was as honest as ever she was in her life? Hold a blow there, I did not tell ye the Gentleman was forc'd to do what he did: and you know, Charity's a Vertue that always loves to keep her self private. Perhaps her Husband, had he known it, would have bid the Devil take [Page 60]the Gentlemans Compassion, and so she might have been the occasion of her Hus­bands cursing so great a Virtue: No— 'twas better as 'twas. For her grief had been unreliev'd, and the Gentlemans Com­passion had been prevented.

But where's this mans Discomfort all this while? Why upon his Wife's tur­ning Whore, his Estate got a Gonnorrhea, and pin'd and consum'd away to nothing. Or if you will have it another way, his Wife put his Estate upon the spit of Pro­digality, and let it lie roasting so long at the fire of her Lust, that it dript quite a­way.

What then? This is no disparagement to Matrimony. For while the woman lives within the confines of Matrimony, and the man retain'd his Ability, all things went well. For I must tell ye, Ability is as it were High Constable of the Hundred of Wedlock, and keeps the peace in Matrimony. Now as the Constable is nothing without his Staff, so is Ability nothing without a good strong Truncheon. So that Matri­mony is no way to be blam'd, but the Dis­solution of Matrimony by the womans seeking after strange Gods, and adoring other Priapus's besides her own. Though, [Page 61]in strictness of reason, it may be a questi­on whether the woman disannul'd the Marriage or no, and whether the end of Wedlock ceasing, the Marriage is not va­cat of it self. Which if it be true, then was the woman upon the ceasing of the former Marriage as free for one as ano­ther.

But such is the sad age we live in, that women must be the scape-goats to bear all the sins and miscarriages of their Hus­bands.

Yet I have heard of a hoary Fornicator, that had gain'd the reputation of a most faithful Husband, one that had clamber'd to the top of the pinnacle of Parish-prefer­ment, a Common-Council-mans fellow; one that never cheated but in the integrity of his heart; one with a Saint-like look, peeked bearded, Sattin cap'd, little banded; and when he drove a bargain, one that look't up to Heaven with his hands upon breast in such a manner, that you might have seen his Conscience in his eyes. Yet this good pious old man, upon an acciden­tal step of his wife into the Country, suf­fer'd his Maid to steal into his wive's place; and so, as if he had found her there by chance, got her with child. 'Tis true, the [Page 62]good man (for generally such Saints as these have luck) had an ingenuous and dutiful Prentice that hope him out at a dead lift, or else who knows what a Family-havock it might have produc'd? I leave you to imagine the afflictions, terrours, and Agonies that tormented this Senior of the Vestry, when he found the state of his condition, in the midst of which he had no friend to trust but his good Prentice; in whom he had the more hopes, because he knew he made no great profession of Godliness, because he lay out of his house anights, and plaid many other pranks with which Satan inspires Youth. To him therefore he unfolds his misery; who most dutifully undertakes to father the child. And now the Curmudgeons stable and purse are at his command. On the other side, the young lad provides for the lying in, appears at the Christning, and brings in Taylors bills, which are not to be question'd. Now he may go out, lie out, ramble where he pleases; for still the Prentice was looking after the child, which though it liv'd not long, yet too long for the old niggards profit, two years really a­live, and another half year still alive after 'twas dead, by the good management of Father Junior. How many new Gowns [Page 63]would this expence have bought the poor ignorant wife at home? what a passion would it have put her into, had she known it? But it hapn'd well for Father Princock, whose Master, rigid and severe before, was now become his perfect slave.

There was a certain Exchange-man, who had liv'd well with his wife for seve­ral years— You might as well have re­mov'd Penmen-Maur into Middlesex as have got him out for a quarter of an hour to drink his Mornings-draught. He canted to his Customers in Mood and Figure: Nothing more grave, nothing more solid, and every one prognosticated him a Fur-Gown and a Gold-Chain. And yet after many years thus spent in reputation, the Extinguisher of Misfortune eclipsed this flaming Christmas-Candle all upon a sud­dain. People star'd, wonder'd, talk'd and reason'd the case; but at length all came out: Secret whoring, private gaming, threescore broad pieces lost of a night, and a thousand flams and shams, and tales of roasted horses to his wife, not one of the Comforts of Matrimony, had been the occa­sion of all this.

Now where were the wives in fault, in either of these two cases? And truly I am [Page 64]apt to believe, were there a true Catalogue of the excesses of this Nature of both Sexes, you would find the Poll much more nu­merous on the mens side. And to tax the women with expence, is folly. For he's a meer doting infatuated Nicodemus, that when he finds his wife galloping away with his Estate, does not hold her in, ha­ving the reins in his own hands.

THE Eighth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

I'll hold a good wager, 'tis no such dis­comfort of Marriage for a mans wife to desire the fresh air. 'Tis an ill sign on the mans side, when a woman is compelled to strain her invention to obtain of her Hus­band an innocent Recreation. Suppose he be at the charges of a Palfrey and a Side-saddle, 'tis no such Break-back-ex­pence to endanger the sighing up his lungs by the roots. He that travels with his wife to shew her the Country, has the same pleasure himself, to see the variety of Seats and Towns, and cannot have a bet­ter Companion than his wife when he comes to his Journeys end. 'Tis a sign the woman has a nobler soul than to inter­mix with a Tag-rag and long-tail, when Easter and Whitsontide let loose the toyling [Page 66]Rabble to devour all the rotten Currants and measly Swines-flesh about the Town in dry cakes, and slices of glorry Bacon stuft with Goose-turds instead of sweet Herbs. Or to be wedg'd in with the Westward ho Trumpery, till she arrive at durty, dusty Brainford for a Tansey of green Wheat and addle Eggs, and a game at paltry Nine-pius for digestion, and then home again, with a bundle of dead Tu­lips and Southern-wood to garnish her Cobweb'd windows. Pretious Comforts of Matrimony indeed! 'Tis natural to women to love a full enjoyment, not the sips and tast of pleasure. Give me a woman that knows what satisfaction is. 'Tis a sign of Genius and sprightliness, the sweets of Conversati­on. Can any man be such a Dunce as to grutch his wife a Country-house? 'tis for his own interest; 'tis as good as going to see his Ʋncle, to leave his wife on Monday­mornings, and return fresh again a Satur­day-nights; and those short absences create new longings and new affections, and pre­vent the inconveniencies of surfeiting. 'Tis good for their Children too; They draw a steady sanity from the innocent and serene air of the Country, while the corrupted smoak of the City, and the Exhalations of [Page 67]Brew-house-Funnels do but besoot their [...]ungs for the Chimney-sweepers broom. There a woman learns industry from the Bee, innocence from the Lamb, honesty from the Cow, that pays so well for her Meat, Drink, and Lodging; the Vine in­structs her true affection, and every flower teaches her every day new Lessons of cha­stity and contempt of vanity, when she be­holds how soon a ravishing hand despoils them of their glory, and how fading all their pomp and beauty is; when they that continually harbour in the City, have no­thing before their eyes, but the daily docu­ments of vice and vanity.

These enjoyments certainly may well be allow'd a wife, when men themselves take a far larger liberty to revel with their Mis­ses and Concubines at Epsom and Tun­bridge, or North-hall wells, where Fools and their Money are soon parted. It may be the man has a mind to prey farther off; and then the Scene is laid thus. At first great signs of an afflicted spirit, many Symptomes of inward vexation, the knife passionately slapt down upon the table at dinner, rubs his forehead, and well—quoth he. What's the matter, my dear, cries the good woman, simply and harmlesly, Heav'n [Page 68]knows. A man would forswear trusting quoth he.—There's no driving a Trad [...] Husband without it, quoth she.—It make me mad to look in my Debt-book, quot [...] he.—There's a hundred and fifty pound lyes desperrte in Hampshire, two hundred pound has been owing me this three year in Devonshire; but for the hundred pound in Wiltshire, the Gentleman promis'd me so faithfully last Term, that I thought he would never have fail'd me.—Well, I se [...] I must take a long journey this Vacation, but what 'twill signifie, Heaven knows.— Pox a this throwing good money after bad —by Jove I hate it mortally. However, quoth she, business is not to be neglected, we must not loose a Hog for a hapoth o [...] Tar; what must be, must be; I'le take the best care I can in your absence.—Ay, quoth he, and then kisses her, that's all the com­fort I have.

Then close in his Counting-house for some days, till he has fil'd his Letter-case with Bills and Summa totalis's, that you would sweat a whole Troop of Horse little enough to guard him home again.

And now all his accoutrements being ready, up he gets betimes i'the morning puts on his Boots and Spurs; out comes [Page 69]the bread and butter and cold victuals, and [...]is wife beholds him looking like Jason [...]ing to fetch the Golden Fleece— Well [...]o he, chawing one piece and cutting a­ [...]other, if I get but half this money, and [...]ood security for the rest, I'll gi'thee the [...]est Gowns, wife, that e'er thou woar'st in [...]hy life. Well, Husband, I wish you good [...]uccess, with all my heart, quoth she. Stay quoth he, what money had I best put [...] my Pocket— faith I'll not take above five pound—the Devil's in't if some or o­ther don't help me to a recruit before that's spent. But this is onely a sham; for his returns are laid as they lay Post-horses, and are order'd their several stages already. The money brought and fob'd, he wipes his mouth, busses his wife, whirles down stairs, whisks up a horse-back, then ano­ther kiss i'the saddle, and so God bless thee, my dear.

Some time before he gets to Brainford, Mrs. Winifred, being got thither by Infal­lible appointment before, stays for him at the Red-Lyon, and seeing him come trot­ting along, knocks for the Drawer. Tell the Gentleman that rid in, quo she, his Com­pany's here. By and by, usher'd by the Drawer, up he comes— Lord, my dear, [Page 70]cries Mrs. Winifred, you have put me int [...] such a fright! what made ye stay so lon [...] behind? Gad, my dear, I could not help it for my life, I met with a Gentleman a [...] Hammersmith Towns-end, who would no [...] be deni'd, but that I must drink a Bottle of Claret with him a Horse-back. I tok [...] him my wife was before— 'twas all one, and I believ'd thou wouldst stay here— which made me the less mind it. And thus in the presence of the Drawer the Match is made up in the twinkling of an [...] eye. They are now man and Wife in the licking of a cat's ear: Onely to confirm it, there must be a little bate, and the Mistress of the house call'd up to hear how plea­santly the My dears and the Sweet-hearts pass between the new-married couple, while the crafty slut in the midst of her cups cries out, Pray God my poor little Billy d [...] but continue well till we return; I am fraid my heart will ake many a dear ake for him ere I get home— Grace a God, Madam, cries the Hostess, all will be well— Ay, ay—Mistress, there's no fear on't, cries the new Bridegroom, he's with as careful a Nurse as any i'the Town— So remounting, a­way they cross the Road, and if possible get to Guilford that night, for the conve­niency [Page 71]of the Inn. Whither from thence the Lord of Oxford knows— but a ramble they take, you may be sure, till money growing short, and having plaid over the play of a wife for a month with all the mirth and jocundry imaginable, home comes my Gentleman again, with his Purse as empty as his two-penny Purse.

Now you are to understand, that this same hot-codpiec'd Monsieur had as much reason to go a dunning for this money, as he had to throw himself headlong from the top of Dover-Peer; for what money he had owing, was already secur'd by Bonds lock't up in his Till. Onely the Comforts of Whoring are such delicious temptations, so ensnaring, so alluring, that flesh and blood cannot forbear 'um. But travelling with a man's Wife is the same thing still, a Tartarian way of cumbring the road with Family-luggage, and makes every strange Inn look like his own House. He cannot kiss his Hostess, nor smuggle his Bed-maker, because his wife's with him. And yet I may be bold to say, he might have had as smirking a Dary-maid as Mrs. Winifred, neer his wife's denyed Country­house, at a far cheaper rate, take the half years Summer-expences and all in, than his [Page 72]Autumnal Christmas Gamboling cost him.

And thus you see what a strange dis­comfort of Matrimony 'tis for a woman to hone for a Country-house. But Lady's, if your Husba [...] deny ye next year, lay these things [...] dishes.

THE Ninth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

HOw! Haughty and proud, and domi­neering? Yes, she would have been at it, but the man kept her at a bay—He took her down in her wedding-shooes. And so finding she could do no good upon him, they did as they did in the first world, liv'd quietly and contentedly toge­ther, for many years, and begat Sons and Daughters. These Children grew up too, and the boys are sent to the Grammar-School, and the Daughters profit to admi­ration i'their yellow Samplers. But when the Gout, or Stone, or both, come to con­fine him to his Prayer-book, Hall's Me­ditations, Montagues Essays, and the great Groaning-chair in his Bed-chamber, then she pays off his old scores; no fire, no can­dle, no plum-watergruel, no Mistress, no [Page 74]Maid to hold him the Chamber-pot; or if the wife do now and then give him a visit, 'tis to taunt reproach, to plague and tor­ment hi [...] [...] than his diseases. The Son take [...] and the mother up­holds him; his Daughters are not suf­fer'd to come at him; with a hundred such-like vexations, and all by the Mothers contrivance. This you'll say is a very hard case; but I say, no, but rather one of the greatest Comforts that could befall him, in such a Condition. For the man being now neer the end of his mortal journey, there is no better way to make him weary of his life, and out of love with the world, than by such means as these. Crosses and afflictions carry a man to Heaven oftimes, when prosperity makes him neglect the care of his Souls health. Which the woman having heard at Church, takes that provident care to put him upon those Contemplations which are most proper for his condition. She gives him the opportunity to consider that he has liv'd long enough in this world, when his wife and children grow weary of him. And therefore what should I be troubled, quo he, to leave these Trival Comforts, that am going to enjoy greater Felicities? [Page 75]Thereupon the man falls to reading; if he want a candle, to his Meditations; fits and prepares himself, makes his peace with Heaven, and so defying the world, dies like another Cato. Whereas that the woman dutiful, loving, indulgent always lamen­ting his departure, wringing her hands, grieving, weeping, blubbering, and crying out, What shall poor I do, what shall these poor Orphans do, if God take thee away, my onely joy, their onely comfort in this world? And then they all fall a howling, though there be ten of 'um, like so many young puppies shut out of doors in a frosty night. These things strike so piercingly to his heart, that the Cout and the Stone are but the nips of a Flea to what he feels there; and causes such a dissipation of all his Heavenly thoughts, that the man de­vours all the Cawdles and Ambergrease-Possets his kind wife brings him; swal­lows whole ounces at a time of Syrrup of Marsh-Mallows, and Oyl of sweet Almonds, to prolong his Aches and his Misery; dis­patches away his Billets to Church for the Prayers of the Congregation, sends for the Parson of the Parish to comfort him up with the story of Ezeckia, sends for the Doctor, and asks him— is there no cure?— [Page 76]have all Drugs and Herbs lost their Vir­tue?— Then crys the woman, For Hea­vens sake, Doctor, do what ye can— I am undone if my poor Husband dies— never had woman a more kind and ten­der Husband— Or had Children a more careful and indulgent Father, I'm sure— Then 'tis the man's cue, Ay, wife,— in­deed, thou hast been always to me a dear and loving wife, and my children, I bless God for it, have been dutiful obedient children, and I would fain live a little lon­ger to see 'um grow up and well disposed in the world, if the Laud saw it fit. And thus these Dialogues of Lamentation do so mollifie the poor man's heart, and so bewitch him with a desire of Life, that at length Death surprizes him altogether un­repentant.

On the other side, the woman that leaves her Husband alone, though men are never less alone, than when alone, gives him all the opportunity that can be to employ his thoughts in Heavenly and seasonable Meditations, allows him time to recollect and repent him of his sins; and keeping him from Pothecaries slops, gives the di­seases leisure to dispatch their business without opposition. The woman has [Page 77]more kindness for her Husband than to see him in pain, well knowing what an imper­tinent and filly thing Pity is: Or to let a simple Doctor run away with half a childs Portion for ridiculous Receipts, when the money may so well spar'd to the good of her Husbands Soul. Is it not better for a man to die quietly, taking time and solita­ry leisure, than to be pester'd with conti­nual visits, and to have his Family stand Lowbelling over his gasping lungs, and di­stracting him with their yelling and how­ling when he is going to sleep? There­fore, says the truly prudent and kind wo­man, when a man begins to grow out of date, let him be well brush't and laid up.

THE Tenth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

TO be short, Mrs Betty has been Moul­ding of Cockle-bread, and her Mo­ther discovers it. However, though the Daughter have got a By-blow in her Belly, the Mother has got a fool in her eye, that shall make all whole again quickly. Well, —quoth she, and who can help what will away? —Thereupon, she gives her Daugh­ter instructions; she takes 'em: the fool comes on, the fool's fool'd; away they post to for better for worse, and so the job's done. But—with a pox to't, here's the disaster, she has not been Marry'd above five Months, but coming home at night, her gull'd Husband finds a Leveret in his Chamber, not dreaming that some women kindle twice a year.

Now what of all this? some men love to open their Oysters themselves; others care not for that drudgery. Force your ground, and you shall have forward Pease by the latter end of April, and treatment-Cherries against May-day. Early Fruit's a rarity. And the Law's positive of his side, the Bantling's no Bastard. Some men lye fumbling five or six years together, and loose all their labour; he's admired for the fertility of his Codpiece.

The Maids in Scotland will marry a man to choose, out of the stool of Repentance; for then they find he has been try'd. 'Tis a hundred pound to a Hazle-nut, he was no Maid himself when he Marryed her: come, come, my Masters, the sawce for the Goose, is sawce for the Gander. 'Tis a fair opportunity to send for his own from Nurse, and so let 'em go for Castor & Pol­lux. Was there never such a prank plaid i'the world before? Yes—nor won't be the last. Solamen miseris—He's a fool that counts his Chickens before they be hatcht; but when he sees 'em pecking their Oat­meal. 'Tis good to be sure, says the pro­verb, and nothing so sure as the Lowse in bosome. For my part I think 'tis extream­ly well as 'tis; for now having enjoy'd her [Page 80]stollen pleasures before Marriage, she'l the less desire them afterwards. Now suppose the Child had been cleaverly conveyed out of the House i'the dark, and the wife sent after, who could have known but that his wife lay in in the Country? and there is no Law, nor no necessity that a man should begin the age of his Child from the Birth, but when he sees convenient.

But here comes the confounded comfort of this Matrimony. For notwithstanding all these grave and solid admonitions, this same young Hairbrains of a Husband must needs be running to Doctors Commons, with his tale of a tub; there's nothing will serve him but a Divorce, forsooth; there he proves the Milch Cow, and not his wife. For after all, they tell him, 'tis natural for the hedge-sparrow to hatch the Cuckows eggs, and there's no Divorce to be had. However, this makes a hubbub in the world, report always spreading like the circles that Children make i'the water with their Ducks and Drakes. And thus having ex­posed himself to the world, through his own folly, he becomes the derision of the Neighbourhood, not by the occasion of Matrimony. Nor is the woman to be blam'd for taking pepper i'the nose, to see [Page 81]a Nickapoop revealing the secrets of his wife to his own ignominy, and her own shame. For had the thing been kept pri­vate, and this one single slip passed by, which was a matter of fact before he could lay any claim to her, she might have prov'd to him the best wife i'the world. And thus men bring their misfortunes upon their own heads, because they can neither manage their business prudently themselves, nor let others do it for 'em. Like the Ped­ler, that would not let his wife be turn'd into a Mule, because he did not like the fetting on of the Tail.

For the Pedlars wife, seeing her Husband had but one Mule, and hearing of an Ar­tist that could turn a woman into a Mule by day, and change again into a woman at night; quoth she to her Husband, if I could be a Mule by day, and a woman by night, I could assist your Mule in the day­time, and you in the night-time, and we might grow rich. Thereupon, the man was content she should send for the Artist. The Practitioner came, and was willing the Pedler should see all things done. First, the woman was ordered to put off all her Cloaths, Smock and all; then she was to posture her self upon all four like the Beg­gar [Page 82]with his Hand-pattins: after that, the Artist stroak'd her all over, with a certain Oyntment which was to produce the hair; with another Oyntment he sleeked up her Ears. All this the Pedler lik'd well enough. But when he came to put on the Tayl, the Pedler would by no means endure that the Tayl should be put on; but cry'd out, he'd have a Mule without a Tayl, and so spoil'd the whole design. Thus if men will be the occasion of their Misfortunes by their own wilfulness, they must t [...]k them­selves, and not impute it to the ill effects of Matrimony. For I appeal to all the world, whether Matrimony could be the cause of this womans loosing her Maiden­head before she was Marryed? And as for the Man, if it were his fortune to marry such a one, he took her for better for worse, and so without noise or hurly-burly he must take her as he finds her.

THE Eleventh Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

BUt what think ye of a Shrew? the best woman in nature. There's no woman like her, she's a Paragon. She makes a man both Poet and Philosopher. A Combat between an Amazon with her Ladle and Potlid, and the Knight of the Ba­sting-ladle, is a Theam for a second Ho­mer. And then she makes a man a Philo­sopher, for she exercises one of the noblest of his Vertues, his Patience. For which reason Socrates, accounted one of the wi­sest Philosophers of his Age, marry'd a no­torious Scold on purpose. The greatest Naturalists tell us, that Beasts are not sub­ject to anger, because they are Beasts. Onely Men and Women are subject to anger, as being the most excellent of Creatures. If then the more angry the [Page 84]more excellent, Scolds must be the more excellent than men, as being more angry. Men could not defend their Prince and Country, nor assail their Enemies with­out anger; nor women defend their pecu­liar Territories, Rights, and Priviledges, without Scolding. By that means wo­men fetch their Husbands from their Pot­companions at Ale-houses and Taverns, burn the Cards, knock the Cribbidge-board about their ears, and ring 'em those peals which their sloth and laziness justly deserve. Were it not for storms and tempests, the O­cean it self would forget it were a Sea, and condense into dry land. Thunder clears the air, and thundring women dissipate the excesses of their Husbands. Scolds are the Imitatrix's of Nature, and supply those passions of the Middle Region which men want. So that when you call Man a Microcosm, you must take the Scolds in, or else the Structure nor the Simile is com­pleat. Juno, the chiefest of all the God­desses, was a prefect shrew. For which rea­son they sacrific'd Hogs upon her Altars; a creature that makes the most abomina­ble noise in nature. How did she perse­cute Jupiter with continual scolding, for his hindness to the Trojans? she not onely [Page 85]scolded her self, but set all the Elements too a scolding at 'um; the winds roar'd, the skies rattel'd, the Sea bellow'd in such a violent manner, that Virgil's hair stood an end.

Could the Goddesses be such shrews so cruelly to persecute such an honest godly man as Aenaeas? What! always Sweet­heart and Dear? No, Rogue and Raskal sometimes does well; and a good thwack o'the shoulders comes seasonably when a man is so drunk, that he can hardly feel it. Virgil says, Anger is the Spur of Vir­tue. Who then more virtuous than Scolds, the most angry of Mortals?

A gang of Crack-ropes had got an honest simple fellow once, and made him believe that for so much mony they would carry him to a place, where he should find a stone that would make him invisible: the credulous goose agrees and goes with 'um; and to be sure of the stone, picks up all the stones that were likest to what they had de­scrib'd, till he had laden himself so, that he was hardly able to move. As soon as he had done, his Companions call him, pre­tending not to see him: he makes no an­swer; thereupon they conclude him invi­sible; [Page 86]and going before, take such order, that none of his acquaintance should take notice of him in the street if they met him. But when he came home, his wife gave him such a rally for letting Dinner be spoil'd, that he threw down his stones, and ran in great heat to call his Companions Knaves and Cheats for abusing him. And thus you see what a deliverance this man had, by his wives scolding. There never was but one Devil that came upon Earth to marry; and a Scold hunted him back to his old quarters in the Devils name. Had it not been for a Scold, what a mixt race should we have been pester'd with, half Devil, half Man, worse than we are already? Another thing is, there's sel­dom any deceit or sly cunning in a Scold: They are too open-hearted, they will be heard with a witness, and care not who hears 'um. And this makes greatly for the support of Scolding, that the Poets so highly commend Proserpina for a good woman; for if Scolding were a vexation, the Devil would certainly have had a scol­ding wife, since we hear of no other tor­ments missing in Hell. Where is there more scolding than at Billingsgate? and yet where more love and friendship? Those [Page 87]very women that you saw engag'd tongues and nails but just now, you shall see the next moment bubbing together like sworn sisters.

The Amazons were certainly very great Scolds, of all the women in the world, yet they were the onely remarkable wo­men for great atchievements. There— Gorge thy self with the blood which thou hast so long thirsted for, said that Scold of an A­mazon, Tomiris, when she threw Cyrus's head into a great wash-bowl of blood. What could any Scold have utter'd more bitter and venemous? Hercules did several won­derful Actions, kill'd Boars and Lyons; but Omphale pull'd down his mettle, and made him glad to spin with her maide. Come, Sirrah, quo she, spin, or I'll knock the distaff about your shag-pate— and so he was forc'd to wet his thumb and go to work. Now he that will deny Omphale to be a Scold, let him prove the contrary. Nature has provided for every particular Creature a peculiar self-defence; bristles for the Hedge-hog, tushes for the Boar, quills for the Porcupine, and a tongue for Women. Which they who best know how to brandish, makes the best use of na­ture's allow'd defence. I question whether [Page 88]the Fish-wife made that use of her tongue which she ought to have done, that suffer'd the Pothecary to slap her bare arse with her own Flounders. Yet so violent was the pursuit of the rest, that had he not im­mediately taken Sanctuary, for ought I know he might have lost a cheek.

But now as to men, I say, a scolding wife has this peculiar vertue to exercise one of the noblest of his Vertues, his Patience. Therefore when Socrates brought home his friends to Supper with him, and they were something troubl'd to see his wife play the Devil with two sticks, throw the meat about the Room, and over-turn the Table, bid 'um consider that tame crea­tures were not always without their faults, and yet we pass'd them by, much less were we to take notice of the extravagant. And another grave Philosopher informs us, that we must bear with, and endure, not blame what cannot be avoided. So then a scolding wife is to be born with, and not blam'd. You shall find among the Proverbial Poetry, a hundred Exhor­tations to suffer and patiently endure af­flictions, vexations, tribulations, or by whatever other term you please to give the misfortunes of men; and our own Mo­thers [Page 89]frequently teach us, That what can't be cur'd must be endur'd, that Patience is a Virtue. And the French-men tell ye, He who wants Patience has nothing. What signifie all these Golden Instructions and admonitions of our fore Fathers, or how should we put them in practice; where should a husband have an opportunity to shew the height and expose the quintes­sence of his Patience, if it were not for womens scolding? Take away Scolding, the Cause, and ye take away Patience, the Effect, presently; and so ye lose the Hog-Patience, for the hapoth o'Tar, Scolding. A man is not bound to live in a steeple among Bells for the exercise of his Ears, when he can hear a noise as loud or louder at home. Thus much for Patience.

Now for the Antiquity of Scolding, which is a very great University-argu­ment. Simonides that liv'd under Darius Hystaspis above 3000 years ago, tells us, that Jupiter made nine sorts of women, of which one sort he made out of the Sea-water. And that therefore they were some­times calm and smooth of disposition, at other times nothing but tempest and whirlwind, there's no withstanding their fury. So wonderful and so boysterous is [Page 90]the storm, that the Steers-man of the House is forc'd to quit the Helm, and com­mit himself to the mercy of the Hurricane. Now these must certainly be Scolds. And in Juvenals time, Scolding was grown to that height, that one single woman would be loud enough to wake the Moon out of an Eclipse.

But what will you say if we prove Scold­ing to be a part of Love it self? and that we shall do from the comparisons apper­taining to Love. For Love is compared to flames and fire, which you see how they rage sometimes, yet embrace every thing that they devour. What can be more like such a conflagration than Scolding? Like your vixen Schoolmasters, that when they are thrashing a boys buttocks, still cry, Corrigo te, non quod odi te, sed quod amem te.

Then again Love is compar'd to a Light­ning, which is nothing but the brushing of the two Thunder-clouds together, and striking fire at the same time. Like which Lightnings are the glitterings and spark­lings of a Scolds eyes, to shew that the thunder of her anger is not without the Emblems of affection in the seats of Love.

By way of Application then; since there is no man that can be perfectly happy in [Page 91]this life, but that he must meet with rubs and jumps in the Bowling-green of this world, and that nothing more shews a man to be a true Philosopher than patience, which he can never exercise unless he meet with an opportunity; there can no real dis­content arise from the occasion that gives him that opportunity to shew himself both a Man and a Philosopher. 'Tis Heroical to suffer, and Heroical Actions always breed an inward pleasure and satisfaction. And therefore he that dyes Matrimonies Martyr, has no reason to blame his wife that is the occasion of such a noble Inscription upon his Monument. And therefore the York­shire Knight did ill, that pull'd out his La­dies teeth to keep her from Scolding. For how could she keep her Tongue between her Teeth, when he had torn up the fence?

THE Twelfth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

I Agree w'ye, — 'tis the general com­plaint, men do not love to be Cuckolds. But yet I fear me, these complaints smell too much of partiality. For there's not one man in five thousand that cares to be con­fin'd himself. Why then should that be a trouble to a man, that always was, still is, and ever will be? 'Tis sufficient that a man be a Roman Catholick in his opinion concerning his wife, and pin his faith upon her sleeve. A woman that never lay with any other man but her own Husband in her life, might set up for one of the greatest Doctresses about the Town. For you shall find a story in Herodotus, that Phero, perhaps Pharaoh, the Son of Sesostris, was struck blind, and so continu'd for ten years. The next year he sent to consult the Ora­cle, [Page 93]by which he was answer'd, That if he wash'd his eyes with a womans water that had never known any man but her own Husband, he should recover his sight. You may be sure a Prince would spare for no cost, nor no search in such a condition. However, he try'd his own wife first; but alas! her water would do no feats. How many several womens waters he try'd af­terwards, Heaven knows, but the number was infinite. At length, when he was al­most in despair, he met with one womans water that did his work. Being cur'd, and well, he caus'd all the women whose wa­ters he had experimented in vain, to be brought together, and thrust into one great City (by which you may guess there was a swinging company of 'em) and there burnt them all together, City and all; and then took the woman that had cur'd him to wife.

What then is universal, can never be a true cause of discontent, since 'tis one mans fortune as well as anothers. And for the women, they are not to be blam'd, because their Husbands lead 'em the way. And from whom should women sooner learn their instructions, than from their Husbands? Therefore said the Gentlewo­man [Page 94]to the Parson that call'd her Baggage, and better fed than taught, 'twas very true, because he taught her, and her Husband fed her. For they must still walk by their Husbands rule.

Neither is there any invention of man, no Law, as the Rump-Parliament try'd to little purpose; no Stratagem of Male-wit that can obviate the suttelties and devices of women in the business of Cuckoldry. Who would think that any devil of a wo­man should have it so ready? For mark how it fell out; no sooner was the good man gone out betimes in the morning to work, but his wife admits her private friend into his warm place. The Husband, it being an unthought-of Holyday, returns much sooner than he was expected, or his company desir'd. The woman hearing him knock at the door, puts her friend un­der an old Copper-Furnace in the wash­house. As soon as the man came in, Wife, says he, I have consider'd that we have no use of that Copper-Furnace in the wash­house, and so I have sold it, and here's the man come to fetch it away. And how much have ye sold it for? quoth she. So much, quoth he. By my faith, then quoth she, you might have brought your friend before, [Page 95]for I have just now sold it to another for half as much more: And the man's now under it, to see what holes there are in it, that they may be mended. And so heaving up the Furnace, the man came out, paid down his money, and had his bargain. Where could the man suspect the least harm in all this? And yet you see there was harm, though not to be discover'd by any but a Conjurer. What could the Father say to his Son in Law, when he complain'd of a discovery he had made of his wife? The Father desir'd the Mother to take her Daughter in private, and give her a juni­per-Lecture. She does so, and the Fa­ther and Son resolve to over-hear her. Fie— quo the Mother, do such a thing, and suffer your self to be discover'd at your years! Where was your wit? where were your brains? I have been married to your Father these twenty years and upwards, and have had many a private Friend in a comer, and yet thy Father can't say, black's my eye. I say, what could the Father say, when he heard this, but advise his Son to secresie and discretion? Or what could the Son do but take his wife again, and double his guards?

I would fain know what man cares to [Page 96]be out of the Fashion? or what reason a man has to be discontented at the Fashion. If it be the fashion to be a Cuckold, why should that grieve and torment his mind? Rather let him consider whether it be not a custom, or rather a Law so made by a long Prescription of near four thousand years; and then comfort himself up in this, that he has the same liberty.

Revenge they say is sweeter than Man­na of Calabria. But if there be no occasi­on of revenge, how shall a man enjoy the Sweets of that Pleasure? Therefore it fell out well for that man, that he was a Cuc­kold, who understanding his Neighbour had made him so, order'd his Wife to send for his Neighbour, and lock him up in a Chest in her Chamber. And then sending for his neighbours wife, and telling her the whole story, gave her a nooning over her husbands head upon the same Chest where he lay fast under lock and key. For now they stood upon equal terms.

Sometimes it may happen that a man low i'the world may gain by the bargain. Like the Foot-Souldier i'the Trainbands, who having got leave of his Captain to dispence with him from the Guard, was got home, and going to bed about one a [Page 97]Clock i'the morning. His doublet was off, and his breeches thrown upon the bed: But his wife was so ill of a suddain, so mortally sick, that unless she had a Cordial presently, there was nothing but present death. The fellow, compassionating his wife, snatches up his breeches again, puts on his doublet, and knocks up the next Pothecary for a Cordial. What Cordial? Any Cordial, that exceeded not nine-pence; for he had but a shilling, and three-pence he must have to spend next morning up­on the Guard. But when he came to dive for his nine-pence, his fingers in one pocket were up to the knuckles in Gold; which en­couraging him to feel further, he found a Gold-Watch in a by-fob, and a convenient quantity of Tower-coyn'd Silver-Medals in another pocket. The fellow wonder'd at the strange multiplication of his single shilling but said nothing, took his Cor­dial, and return'd home to his expiring wife. In the mean time the Gentleman was gone with his leathern Breches and the single shilling to bear his Charges through the Watch, and glad he scap'd so. And thus you see, if it hit well, there's con­tent a both sides; if otherwise, a man must take it as it falls. But yet for all this, I am apt to believe the world is not come [Page 98]to that pass yet, but that the men are far more in fault than the women. 'Twere impossible else, that there should be so much work for the Surgeons and Pintle-smiths about this Town. 'Tis impossible that there should be such swarms of Charla­tans and Knights of the Syringe in every corner of the City. Not a Gate or spare wall but what is plaister'd over like a Country-Ale-house, with No cure no money: A hundred Infallible Cures, and a thou­sand more defiances of Mortality, enough to astonish death it self, as if he were upon his last legs, and that Men had wrested his Scithe out of his sinewless clutches. You cannot walk the streets without having three or four Schedules in a day of humane Infirmities pop't into your hands. So that now if a man can't live by the Tap or the Syringe, 'tis time for him to go a Buckaneering to Jamaica.

Whence this Incouragement? Faith, neither better nor worse; women are not so bad as men would make 'um, and therefore the old trade of whoring still flourishes. In short therefore, since there is no man that wears a Bulls feather who is not as apt to give it, let him never think that a discomfort to himself, which he dreams no vexation to another.

THE Thirteenth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

IS she so? Why, what's the matter? Why, the woman's a mere Tyger for jealousie. And what can be more irksome to a man, than to live under the yoak of Tyrannical suspition? His goings out and comings in are dog'd and trac'd like a Hare i'the snow. Where ha you been to day? What, you ha been to visit the Taylors wife, I see by your hang-dog countenance— But I shall pull the eyes of her out at one time or other. I hear of your pranks, I do; but I'll spoil your swan-hopping i'faith. And when he comes to pay his nocturnal Tribute—No, no, get ye gone where you have been all this day— I'll ha none o'your Gilflurts leavings— And this is a great inconveniency of Matrimony that gives him no rest. But such men [Page 100]consider not, that your jealous women are the onely kind wives in the world. 'Tis not out of anger that they chime so loud i'their husbands ears, nor out of disrespect or neglect of Duty that they tell him his own, but out of pure love and affection. The woman would ne'er have been at the price of a halter to hang her husband that was to be executed, and carried it the Sheriff her self, but that she was jealous lest her Husband should escape the punish­ment of his sin. Where jealousie is absent, there can be no real Love. Jealousie is the Conditement that preserves Love, as Sugar preserves Pears and Plums. 'Tis the Dog and Bell that keeps blind Love i'the right way. Jealousie is the Argos that watches the unruly and wandring footsteps of scaperloytring Lechery. And therefore men are discontented, & murmur at the jealousie of their wives, as little children hate the Chirurgeon that cures um of a Fistula i'their Tails, because he hurts 'um. The first Condescentions of women are but the beginning of Love, but Jealousie compleats and perfets their af­fection. For unless a woman lov'd her husband, why should she be angry that another should enjoy him? 'Tis a sign she's [Page 101]ambitious of her husbands Affection, when she envies all others that she thinks have any share with her; and a demonstration that she preserves her chast embraces en­tirely for her Husband. A loving Mother is always brooding in her thoughts over her absent Infant, and still suspicious of the miscarriages of a neglectful Nurse. In like manner, what can be more kind and obli­ging, than a wife that keeps a continual watch and guard over the safety and pre­servation of her Husband, well knowing how many traps and baits that Harlot Pleasure lays up and down in every corner for Mouse-like men, that are ready to snap at the toasted cheese of every loose and vain affection. The Surgeon that boasted that he had Nuts of Priapus's anow (the spoils of venereal Combats) to button a Leaguer-Cloak, gives a woman sufficient warning to be careful of her husbands ware. It shews a woman has a true value for her self, when she scorns to be out-rival'd. These Maximes the Town-Misses are not ignorant of, and therefore count themselves then best belov'd, and are best satisfi'd, when their Paramours brook no Copart­nership in their Chamber-Practice. In them jealousie is applauded by their wan­ton [Page 102]Admirers; and why not in a Wife, whose care is much more tender and cor­dial? Thus a jealous wife takes care of the main Chance; and a Man has the same reason to be offended at a jealous wife, as at an honest servant, who takes care to keep himself sober, when he finds his Master resolv'd to be drunk.

THE Fourteenth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

AY—that's fine musick for a Hus­band indeed—for his wife to lie hickupping a bed, as if she were engaging her stomack to give her Husband a Pillow­posset. He is then in a bodily fear in truth, when he finds her breath inflam'd with Brandy, and is afraid every moment of being burnt in his bed. For I have heard of a woman that has set her self on fire, and been burnt to death with swallowing a Snap-dragon. And yet in such a wife there is both pleasure and content. For they say, that women are generally most kind in their cups; and kindness in a wife is one of the chiefest things which the Hus­band expects from Matrimony.

Lovers are pleas'd to see Babies in their Mistresses eyes; but when his wife becomes [Page 104]all Looking-glass, where can he more de­light to behold his own failings? which if they be failings, he has the advantage there­by to dress and reform his own ill manners first, and then hers afterwards. What greater pleasure can a man have, than to fuddle with his own wife? or what greater kindness can she shew him, then to sit foot to foot with him at the Tavern? 'Tis like drinking on a Sunday in Sermon-time with the Church-warden and Constable of the Parish in company. Or if a man have a mind to be rid of his wife, let him not suffer her to disgrace him, by the retail way of only a quartern at a time from the Stillers shop, but let him extend his kind­ness, like the Taylor i'the Strand; let her ross off her Noggins by whole-sale; let the Brandy-Firkin stand by her bed-side.

Now that women have as much right to drink Wine, as well as men, is plainly de­monstrable from this, That the Poet as­sures us, that Bacchus was both Female as well as Male, and perform'd the greatest part of his Conquests by the assistance of women; of which Sex the chiefest part of his Armies consisted. His Nurses too, the Pleiades, were notable Topers, you may be sure; for they spill their Liquour to this [Page 105]day, and are the certain foretunners of rain and fowl weather when they rise in an ill humour. Then, who were to be trusted with the Religious rites and wor­ship ascrib'd to this carowsing Deity, but women? And whether they were not no­table Bowsers, you may easily guess by their Horse-play Ceremonies. But now, Heavens bless us! what a crime is it for a woman to drink a glass of wine!

But let us consider, I beseech ye, one thing more. There's an old Proverb, In vino veritas, the Cup never lyes. Whence we infer, that Fuddle-coyf wives always speak truth. I promise ye then, I think that man has no reason to be discontented, that has such a precious Jewel; for you know, that all other women are not to be believed although they be dead.

Oh! but you'l say, Fudling women are apt to miscarry i'their drink. To which I answer, that though I might tell ye, more women miscarry when they are sober than when they are Tipsie, yet I will onely blame the Husband for that, who ought to take the more care of her, knowing her disposition. 'Tis a thing that looks ill in men, not to take care of their friends in their drink, but suffer 'em to reel home [Page 106]i'the dark, and moyl themselves in the ken­nel; and therefore to neglect women, the weaker vessels, when they have been a lit­tle over-indulgent to nature, is a Soloecism in a Husband that justly deserves the drea­ded punishment of his carelessness. For her Husband cannot blame her for falling then, when her tottering condition is such, that without bolstring, 'tis impossible she should stand. 'Tis a question whether the venerable Delphian Prophetess did not always take a hearty cup before she went to consult the Oracle. For you see their Answers were generally such insolent rid­dles, that the Devil himself could hardly pick out their meaning. And for the Sy­bil that carried Aeneas to Hell, you may find in what a pickle she made her self before she durst adventure the Voyage. When the Trojan Women burnt Aeneas's Navy, the story tells ye, they were all fud­dl'd (for the mischief was contriv'd over a damn'd Gossiping) yet we do not perceive that the Trojans lov'd their wives e'er a jot the worse for their frolick. Nay, women are so cleanly in their drinking, that many times they strain the Wine through their Smocks; when men, like slovens as they are, drink up dregs and all.

Let men consider their own extravagan­cies; their flinging the Glasses over their shoulders, their burning their Coats, Hats and Periwigs; then their running to Bau­dihouses, mad as March-hares, their Scow­ring, as they call it, and breaking peoples windows, their quarrels with the Watch, their disturbing the Counter-turn-keys, who are forc'd to rise in the cold, that their Ratships may not lye i'the street. I say, let men consider these things, and then tell me why it should be such a heart-hreaking dis­comfort of Matrimony to see their wives tipsie, when they take so much delight in it themselves. For women, whose nature it is to be inquisitive, observing their Hus­band to take such an extraordinary delight in trowling the Bowl, are no way to be blam'd for their aspiring to partake of the same felicity. But lastly, another great comfort that same husband enjoys, who has a good Companion to his wife. For as wine debilitates both the one and the other; so he has the more rest and quiet in his bed, and is not dun'd so oft for due benevolence, but that he may easily afford it.

THE Fifteenth Real Comfort OF Matrimony.

OH! But the man does not love hairs in his porridge. And yet sluts are generally very kind. For when the Soul­diers in Scotland wanted Onion-sawce for their Wild-Ducks, the woman of the House, to supply their wants, was contented free­ly to part with the onely Clove of Garlick she had in the world, which her child for several days had eat and shit out again to cure the Worms. I must tell ye, a sluttish wife enures a man to the inconvenien­cies of War, where a man does not always meet with clean sheets or Sun-Tavern Cooks. Sows are the most nastie crea­tures in the world, and yet none more pro­fitable or better Flesh. Perfumes are of­fensive to many diseases which Assa foetida cures. And how frequently do we find [Page 109]that men forsake their wives Sweet-bags, to have a touch with their greasie Cook­maids? If the woman be a slut, yet the man has this comfort, that she's fair, or else the Proverb's a confounded lyar. Now there are certain creatures that having more potent enemies than themselves, roll themselves over head and ears i'the mud, to escape the danger that hangs over their heads. And thus sluttish wives conscious of their Beauty roll themselves over head and ears in durt, to avoid the pursuit of wanton sollicitations, to the great advan­tage and comfort of their husbands. Cleanliness is but a new Invention; Slut­tery was the mode of the Grandmothers of our great great Grandmothers, when Romulus's wife wore a flannel Smock a whole twelve month together, and Aeneas wip'd his fingers upon his Doublet instead of a Napkin. Sluttery is an Emblem of the simplicity of the old World, before Pomp and Luxury came in fashion. She that never sweeps the Cobwebs from her windows has always an example and pat­tern of diligence before her eyes; and then she has another good quality, that she keeps her Husband out of the Mercer's and Lace­men's Books: and then her Victuals too [Page 110]cost little; for a T—d's as good for a Sow as a Pancake. Why should a man find fault with a slut, when Venus her felf was born out of the scum of the Sea?

But then for her Virtues, a Slut is a wo­man of Constancy. She ever was, and is, and what she is ever will be, a slut. With­out any alteration or change of Humour, according to the usual Levity and Incon­stancy of her Sex.

In the next place, it shews contempt of the folly and vanity of the world, which is one round in her Ladder to Heaven.

Now as for the man himself, this is certain, that a slut can onely offend his nose and his eyes. Now what man would be so extremely indulgent to his nose or his eyes, to discompose the whole frame of Natures Habitation for a Hogo in his Pork, or boyling his Pudding in his foul Night­cap? I have known it rain butter'd Pease at a mans House, meerly because his wife brought him an Alchymy spoon onely smear'd with a little Candle-grease. Yet who would not rather choose to feed on a good joynt of Mutton, though it fortun'd that the Dish-clout boyl'd jig by jowl with it all the while, than a dish of Frogs-legs, or fri'd Mice, though never so artificially [Page 111]cook't a-la-mode de France? Or who had not rather see his wives nasty Comb in the window, than the slap-dawdries of paint and Fucus?

So that men are to weigh the good with the bad; some men's meats are o­ther men's poysons. What some men nauseate, is grateful to other mens sto­machs: we are not to hate Cows, because Cheese is made of their Milk: and as a learned Divine once said, the pleasures of a Hog are not the pleasures of an Angel. And therefore in short, men are to take their lots, and either be Fools or Philoso­phers. For as all Arguments in these Ca­ses are uncertain, so must be the Conclusi­ons.

THE Sixteenth Real Comfott OF Matrimony.

BUt forsooth, a man has a fine Estate, and a fine wife, and a fine portion; and this wife has a fine wit, fine conditions, and fine caresses,—but—the Devil's i'these Buts,—they come in so confoundedly at the but-end of a commendation, that they spoil all.—For this fine woman is so addicted to Lantraloo, and Back-gammon, that she makes a perfect Speirings Ordinary of her House. No sooner is the cloath taken a­way, but another clean cloath must be spread, and then out come the Cards or the Tables; and there she sits from after dinner, till one, two, three, four a clock i'the morning, day after day, night after night, consuming and wasting her fine Por­tion, till she begins to prey upon the main stock. And this is a parlous grievance, a [Page 113]comfort of Matrimony in the name of Sa­tan. All this while the men don't consi­der what a happiness they have in enjoy­ing such a wife. One cries, I think my wife will play away her A—, and what of that? Then there's the thing gone, which is many times the cause of all his fears, jea­lousies, and disturbances. How many men are there, that curse their wives tayls? which if the women have a faculty to play away, there's a fair riddance of the mens discontent. But I must tell ye, the fear of a wives playing away her tayl, is an idle thing. 'Tis true, she may be for­ced to stake it sometimes; but then, though she should fortune to loose, yet she wins by the bargain. But on the t'other side, how many men are there, that will loose their own Arses, and let a woman drain their Pockets as dry as a clean-swept East-India ship, for the favour of a little smug­ling, or the commodiousness of access to their snowie white breasts? And then a­gain, a man does not consider, that a wo­man addicted to gaming, minds no other pleasure; she sits squeezing her thighs and her buttocks, and will hardly stir from her chair to piss, much less to mind any other Fegaries. A man may conclude his wife [Page 114]safe, when she is once got to her Cards. And it is a happiness that one game spoyls another. The Lydians were a notable people, and these notable people the Ly­dians were the first that invented Cards and Dice. And the reason was, to keep their wives from other sports, which they thought more to their prejudice. For af­ter Candaules the King of the Country had put the Lydian women agog, by shewing his wife stark naked to his friend Gyges, they were all mad, and bawl'd at their Hus­bands that they might be shewn naked too; every one believing her self to be as hand­some as the Queen. Ay,—quoth the men, we'l find ye other divertisement; and so setting 'em to Cards and Dice, lay'd their animosities presently asleep. The love of gaming, where it once gets the victory, has such an attractive force, that there is no charm of power sufficient to controul it. It keeps women even from Play-houses, the Nurseries of Hoity toyty Imaginations; it keeps 'em from Lectures, and polluting the Church with unfanctify'd thoughts. Nay, the very consolation of having Tib and Tom in her hand, shall cause her to contemn the disappointment of the most solemnly-engaged assignation that ever wo­man [Page 115]made; while the impatient lover makes many a weary step in the Temple­rounds, vainly expecting her that is as fast at buying stocks, as the Knights of Je­rusalem i'their Graves.

On the other side, if the wife be so hap­py as to make Fortune her friend, and some are so beholding to the slippery Jade, that you would swear she went snips, then it rains Guineys in that house. The pot boyls upon the score of Lantraloo-luck; Teal, Widgeons, and fat Capons are the Trophies of victorious Gleek; the Tri­umphs of Back-gammon excuse the char­ges of the Fring'd Petticoat; and many times the man too has his share in the ta­king present of a Point-Cravat.

Many are the blessings that attend the owner of a she-Gamester. She is always quiet, never out of humour. She is always patient, always contented; never lowres, never scolds, never pouts; for her heart rides at anchor in the Serene harbour of in­ward ease and joy.

Is she at play? never disturb her—she's then moving in the proper Sphere of her own delight. The Dolphin that had such a love for a Child, that he came every mor­ning to the shoar, and carried him over an [Page 116]arm of the Sea to School with his break­fast in his hand, could never have been so serviceable to the Lad, had he been taken out of his own Element. When a woman is peaceable and quiet, and well, 'tis a mad­ness to disturb her. Wasps never sting, but when they are unwarily provok'd. A game can never be well manag'd with­out prudence, foresight, circumspection, and policy. Seeing then that a woman who is a good Gamester cannot be without all these good Qualities, it is a certain sign, that he who has a good Gamester to his wife, has a woman so qualifi'd. And who can think it a discomfort to him to have a woman polish'd with so many rare en­dowments? By playing the King, they learn to govern; by playing the Queen, they learn to obey; by playing Tib and Tom, they understand the inconveniency of putting too much power into the hands of Ser­vants. And stories furnish us with seve­ral examples of great Generals that have practis'd the Game at Chesse, meerly to in­struct themselves in the Art of War, in Stratagem and Surprize, and the methods of Embattelling, and encountring the E­nemy. But suppose she looses all she plays for: Then she cannot be thought to have [Page 117]all these good qualities before mention'd. What then? yet she is still bidding fairly for 'um, still upon the purchase of 'um; so that if she miss of her aim, 'tis the unkind­ness of Fortune, not her fault. And bought wit is always said to be the best.

And now how would you have 'um spend their time? you'd have 'um spin I warrant— Yes— and sit wetting their thumbs, till they grow as lean with exhau­sting their radical moisture, as one of the three fatal Sisters. A fine posture indeed! to sit all day long as if they were twisting the thread of their Husbands life.

You'd have her mind the Brat i'the Cra­dle; as if it were not far more noble and gentile to turn up a good jolly Trump, than a bawling Bastards shitten, stinking tail.

Nor is the loss so great neither, for what a woman loses in gaming, she saves in hou­shold-expences; in Coaches, Spring-Gar­dens, and Plays; in Balls and night-Ram­bles; so that none may be better term'd a Houswife than she, as being always at home, receiving visits, seldom making any: for where the Carkass is, there the Eagles ga­ther together. A man is not crucifi'd with the tormenting thoughts, where or with [Page 118]whom his wife should be at this or that unseasonoble time of the night. A ter­rible affliction to those that continually dream of cornuting.

Suppose she lose her Cloaths from her back. Then her Husband is sure to find her a bed, till she get a recruit.

No question but it is a great vexation to a woman to lose, and a great toyl to be always labouring for a dead Horse. How­ever, it is much more convenient that she should fret her self, than vex her Hus­band.

The Parson that lov'd gaming better than his eyes, made a good use of it, when he put up his Cards in his Gown-sleeve for hast, when the Clerk came and told him the last Stave was a singing. 'Tis true, that in the height of his reproving the Parish for their neglect of holy Duties, upon the throwing out of his zealous arm, his Cards dropt out of his sleeve, and flew about the Church. What then? He bid one boy take up a Card, and ask'd him what it was— the boy answered, the King of Clubs. Then he bid another boy take up another Card. What was that? the Knave of Spades. Well, quo he, now tell me who made ye? The boy could not well [Page 119]tell. Quo he to the next, Who redeem'd ye? That was a harder question. Look ye, quo the Parson, you think this was an Accident, and laugh at it; but I did it on purpose, to shew ye, that had ye taught your children their Catechism as well as to know their Cards, they would have been better provided to answer the mate­rial Questions which I put to them.

And thus men may profit by their wives gaming; and raise many wholsome instructions to themselves from their lo­sings. As first, if they knew as well what belong'd to Cuckolding their Husbands as they did to play at Cards, they would ne­ver prefer the misfortune of losing their money, before the pleasure of gaming with a friend in a corner. Secondly, that it was better for their wives to sit losing their Mo­ney at home, than their Reputation a­broad. And thirdly, it ought to be a great satisfaction to 'um to see which way their money goes. For that's the great Plague to a Man, when he finds his Money run away like Quick-silver, but knows not which way the devil it goes. But she that games away her money, frees him from that tribulation of beating his brains with an impossible enquiry. And I must [Page 120]tell ye, a man had better that his wife should game away twenty, than sport a­way five pound.

But, Gentlemen, consider how you shake your elbows your selves, how you make the dead mens bones rattle; you never consider how you fret, and tear and swear, and swagger and storm, and dam and sink, and curse and bite the Dice, and gnaw the Boxes. And then at length when the De­vil deserts him at the last throw, then to see rage and despair ding the poor inno­cent box against the floor, as if he design'd it through the cleft earth at Lucifers own head, these are extravagancies never thought of. What a sad and miserable surprize it is to be taken by a Creditor with a Ser­jeant at his heels, in the height of Securi­ty, at hei a Main, have at all, while the poor wife and barn at home live only upon trust with the Milk-woman!

What a pretty kind of Emulation it was between two young Sparks coming losers out of a Gaming-Ordinary! Quo the one complaining to his friend— G—dam me— I ha lost forty Guineys— G—dam you— Quo the t'other— G—dam me— I ha lost above fourscore— Don't you think now, his friend was to blame if he contested with him for priority?

What a pleasant comfort of Matrimony it would be to a wife, to see her Husband undrest by the Dice, as if he were to go to bed to his Misfortune! The white Bea­ver leads the Van, then follows the Per­riwig, next in order the Cravat, then the Ruffles and Buttons thereto belonging. The Coat cannot forsake his Brethren; and the Breeches hone after the Coat, as being of the same Cloath. And what now? There stands stript Peel-garlick having nothing but his shirt and his fiery Passion to keep him warm: onely there is this small com­fort left him, that he cannot play away his Title of Squire; that sticks to him as long as the least scrap of his Fathers Thrift re­mains. For it comes to that at length, that all must go, even the wives Joynture and all. So the willing Soul at length, o­vercome with endearment and Caresses, is carry'd like a Lamb to the slaughter to Serjeants-Inn, where after she has given a willing answer to the whispering Judge, she may then go hang her self in her own Garters. For this is the Finalis Concor­dia between the Gentleman-Squire and his Patrimony. Therefore take him— Kings-Bench, to the ruine of Wife, Children, and Posterity, that cries, my Grandfather was [Page 122]a man of Five hundred a year if he could have kept it. Compare now the little Losings of a wife, and the Patrimony-ha­vocks and extirpations root and branch of their Estates which men make, by the leudest, wickedest, and most impious me­thods in the world; and see who has most reason to complain of Matrimony.