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the ten Pleasures. of MARRIAGE.

Printed at London 1682.

[Page] THE TEN PLEASURES OF MARRIAGE, Relating All the delights and content­ments that are mask'd under the bands of Matrimony. Written by A. MARSH, Typogr.

LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1682.

To the Reader.

COurteous Reader,

This small Treatise which I here present unto thee is the fruit of somé spare hours, that my cogitations, after they had been for a small time, between whiles, hovering to and fro in the Air, came fluttring down again, still pitching upon the subject of the Ten Pleasures of Marriage, in each of which I hope thou wilt find somthing worthy of thy acceptance, be­cause I am sure't is matter of such nature as hath never before been extant, and espe­cially in such a method; neither canst thou well expect it to be drest up in any thing of nice and neat words, as other subjects may be, but only to be clad in plain habit most fit for the humour of the Fancy. If I per­ceive that it please thee, and is not roughly or unkindly dealt withall; nor brain'd in the Nativity, to spoil its generation of a further product, it will incourage me to proceed upon a second part, some say of the some Tune, but I mean to the same Purpose, and apparelled very near the same dress: In the mean time, with hopes that thou wilt be kind to this, and give it a gentle reception, from him who is thine: Farewell.

[Page 1]The Ten PLEASURES Of MARRIAGE.

THe Nuptial estate trailing along with it so many cares, troubles & calami­ties, it is one of the great­est admirations, that people should be so earnest and desirous to enter themselves into it. In the jounger sort who by their sulphurous instinct, are subject to the tickling desires of nature, and look upon that thing cal­led Love through a multiplying-glass, it is somewhat pardonable: But that those who are once com to the years of knowledge and true understan­ding should be drawn into it, me­thinks [Page 2] is most vilely foolish, and morrice fooles caps were much fitter for them, then wreaths of Lawrel. Yet stranger it is, that those who have been for the first time in that horrible estate, do, by a decease, cast them­selves in again to a second and third time. Truly, if for once any one be through contrary imaginations mis­led, he may expect some hopes of compassion, and alledge some reasons to excuse himself: but what comfort, or compassion can they look for, that have thrown themselves in a second and third time? they were happy, if they could keep their lips from speak­ing, and ty their tongues from com­plaining, that their miseries might not be more and more burdened with scoffings which they truly merit.

And tho not only the real truth of this, but ten times more, is as well known to every one, as the Sun shine at noon day; nevertheless we see them run into it with such an earnestness; [Page 3] that they are not to be counselled, or kept back from it, with the strength of Hercules; despising their golden liberty, for chains of horrid slavery.

But we see the bravest sparks, in the very blossoming of their youth, how they decay? First, Gentleman­like, they take pleasure in all manner of noble exercises, as in keeping time all dancing, singing of musick, playing upon instruments, speaking of several languages, studying at the best Uni­versities, and conversing with the learnedst Doctors, &c. or else we see them, before they are half perfect in any exercise, like carl cats in March run mewing and yawling at the doors of young Gentlewomen; and if any of those have but a small matter of more then ordinary beauty, (which perhaps is gotten by the help of a damn'd be­witched pot of paint) she is immedia­tely ador'd like a Saint upon an Altar. And in an instant there is as much beauty and perfection to be seen in [Page 4] her, as ever Juno, Venus and Pallas possessed all together.

And herewith those Gentile Plea­sures, that have cost their Parents so much money, and them so much la­bour and time are kickt away, and to­tally abandoned that they may keep company with a painted Jezebel. They are then hardly arrived at this intitled happiness, but they must be­gin to chaw upon the bitter shel of that nut, the kernel whereof, without sighing, they cannot tast; having no sooner obtained access to the Lady, but are as suddenly possest with thou­sands of thoughts what they shall do to please the Sweet object. Being therewith so tosticated, that all their other business is dispersed, and totally laid aside. This is observable not on­ly in youth of the first degree, but also in persons that have received promo­tion.

For if he be a Theologue, his books drop out of his hands, and by [Page 5] stragling about his study, even as his sences do, one among another. And if you hear him preach, his whole Ser­mon is nothing but of Love, which he then turns & winds to Divinity as far as possible it can be fitted.

If it be a Doctor of Physick, oh! he has so much work with his own sicknes, that he absolutely forgets all his Patients, though some of them were lying at deaths dore; and lets the Chyrurgian, whom he had appoint­ed certainly to meet there, tarry to no purpose, taking no more notice of his Patients misery, and the peril of his wounds, then if it did not concern him. But if at last he doth come, it is when the wound's festered, the Ague in the blood, or that the body is incu­rable. So far was he concern'd in look­ing after that Love-apple, or Night­shadow, for the cure of his own burn­ing distemper.

If he be a Counsellor, his whole brain is so much puzzel'd how to be­gin [Page 6] and pursue the Process for the ob­taining his Mistress in Marriage; that all other suits tho they be to the great detriment of poor Widows and Or­phans are laid aside, and wholly re­jected. Then being desired by his Clients to meet them at any place, and to give his advice concerning the cause, he hath had such earnest busi­ness with his Mistress, that he comes an hour or two later then was ap­pointed. But coming at last, one half of the time that can be spent, is little enough to make Mr. Counsellor un­derstand in what state the cause stood ta the last meeting. And then having heard what the Plaintif and Defen­dant do say, he only tells them, I must have clearer evidences, the ac­counts better adjusted, and your de­mand in writing, before I can make any decision of this cause to both your satisfactions.

There they stand then, and look one upon another, not daring to say [Page 7] otherwise, but 'tis very well Sir, we will make them all ready against the next meeting; and are, with grief at heart, forced to see as much and sometimes more expences made at the meeting, as the whole concern of their debate amounted to. Then it is, come let's now discourse of matters of state, and drink a glass about to the health of the King and the prosperity of our Co­untry and all the inhabitants; which is done only to the purpose, that coming to his Mistress, he may boastingly say, my dear, just now at a meeting we remembred you in a glass, & I'l swear the least drop of it was so delicious to me, as ever Nectar and Ambroso could be, that the Poets so highly commend.

If Counsellors, and other learned men, that are in love, do thus; what can the unlearned Notary's do less? Even nothing else, but when they are writing, scribble up a mul­tiplicity of several words un necessary [Page 8] clauses, and make long periods; not so much as touching or mentioning the principal business; and if he does, writes it clear contrary to the intent of the party concern'd: By that means making both Wills and other Deeds in such a manner, that the end agrees not with the beginning, nor the middle with either. Which occa­sions between friends, near relations, and neighbors, great differences, and an implacable hatred; forcing thereby the monies of innocent and self-ne­cessitated people, into the Pockets of Counsellors and Attorneys.

And alas the diligent Merchant, when he has gotten the least smatch of this frensie, his head runs so much upon wheels, that he daily neglects his Change-time; forgets his Bils of exchange; and is alwaies a Post or two behind hand with his Letters: So that he knows not what Merchandises rise or fall, or what commodities are ar­rived or expected. And by this means [Page 9] buies in Wares, at such rates, that in few daies he loses 20. yea sometimes 30 per cent. by them. Nay, this dis­temper is so hot in his head, that thereby he Ships his goods in a Vessel, where the Master and his Mate are for the most part drunk, and who hardly thrice in ten times make a good voyage.

And who knows not how misera­ble that City and Country is, when a military person happens to ly sick in this Hospital. If he be in Garison, he doth nothing but trick up himself, walk along the streets, flatter his Mi­stress, and vaunt of his knowledge and Warlike deeds; though he scarce understands the exercising of his Arms, I will not mention encamping in a Field, Fortification, the forming of Batalions, and a great deal more that belongs to him.

And coming into Campagne; alas this wicked Love-ague continues with him; and runs so through his blood, [Page 10] that both the open air, and wide fields are too narrow for him. Yea and tho he formerly had (especially by his Mistris) the name of behaving him­self like a second Mars; yet now he'l play the sick-hearted, (I dare not say the faint-hearted) to the end he may, having put on his fine knotted Scarf, and powdered Periwig, only go to shew himself to that adorable Babe, his Lady Venus, Leaving oftentimes a desperate siege, and important State affairs, to accompany a lame, squint­ey'd, and crook-back'd Jeronimo.

And if, by favour or recommanda­tion, he happen to be intrusted with any strong City or Fort that is besie­ged, he's presently in fear of his own Bom, and practises all sorts of waies and means how he shall best make a capitulation, that so leaving the place, he may go again to his fair one.

And alas, what doth not the Ma­ster of a Ship, and his Mate hazard, when they are sick of this malady? [Page 11] What terrible colds, and roaring seas doth he not undergo, through an in­temperate desire that he hath to be with his nittebritch'd Peggy? How often doth he hazard his Owners Ship, the Merchants Goods, and his own life, for an inconstant draggle­tail; that perhaps before he has been three daies at Sea, hath drawn her affection from him, and given pro­mise to another? Yet nevertheless, tho the raging Waves run upon the Ship, and fly over his head, he with­stands it all. Nor is the main Ocean, or blustering Boreas, powerfull enough, to cool his raging fire, and drive those damps out of his brain. The tempestuousness of the weather, having driven him far out of his course; his only wishes and prayer is, oh, that he might be so happy, but for a moment to see his Beacon, those twinkling eys of his dearly beloved Margery Mussel! Then all things would be well enough! Tho he and [Page 12] all that are with him, were immedia­tely Shipwrackt, and made a prey for the Fishes. And if, unexpectedly, fortune so favour him, that he hap­pens to see the Coast, oh, he cannot tarry for the Pilot! but tho it be misty weather, and he hood-wink'd by Ve­nus, still he sails forward, running all in danger, that before was so far pre­served.

And if the Shop-keeper once sets foot into this destructive Wilderness, he doth nothing less then look to his shop, and wait upon his Customers. Spending most part of his time in fi­nical dressing himself, to accompany his Mistriss, and with a Coach or Pair of Oars to do her all manner of cares­ses. Then his whole discourse is, with what good custom he is blest above others; but seldom saies, that with waiting upon his Lady, and by indea­vouring to please her above all things, how miserably he neglects it, by which means, shop's not only [Page 13] found without a Master, but the ser­vants without government. And at New-year, the day-book is not writ­ten fair over; and if any body desires their reckoning, the squire is so full of business, that he can't spare half an hour to write it out: For where he goes, where he stands, what he thinks, what he does, all his cogi­tations are imploi'd to think how de­licious it is to press those soft lips of his beloved, and then out of an un­feigned heart to be lov'd again, some­times receiving a kiss. Thus he idles away all his time, and all his business with his sences runs a wool-gathev­ing.

To be short, let it be what sort of person it will, they no sooner touch the shel of this Marriage-nut, but be­fore they can come to tast the kernel they look for; they feel nothing else then thorns and briars of sorrow and misery. If there be any one [Page 14] that thinks he is gotten a footstep fur­ther then another, in the favour of his Mistris, and that in time he questions not th'obtaining his desired happiness; immediately, that imagined joy, is crush'd with an insuing despair; being presently molested with a fear, that Fa­ther, Mother, Uncle, or Tutor will not like his person, or that he has not means enough; or else either they, or the Gentlewoman, will make choice of another in his place. Or, if he sees another have access to the Lady as well as himself, at the same moment he's possessed with jealousie, and falls a pondering how he shall make this Rival odious in the eys of her. And if the other get any advantage of him; then he challenges him to fight; ha­zarding in that manner his precious life, for the getting of her, who when he had her, would perhaps, occasion him a thousand torments of death and misery. Pray observe what pleasures this introduction imparts unto us; [Page 15] alas, what may we then expect from the marriage it self?

Really, those that will take this into due consideration, who would not but curse the Gentlewoman that draws him into such a raging mad­ness? yet Lovers go forward, and please your selves with this imagined happiness; but know, that if according to your hope, you obtain her for a Bride, that at the least you must ex­pect a sence and feeling of the Ten insuing Pleasures.

THE FIRST PLEASURE.
The Consent is given, the Match con­cluded, and the Wedding kept.

NOw, O Lover, till this time you have been indeavour­ing, slaving, turmoiling, sighing, groaning, hoping and begging to get from those slow and tardy lips, that long-wish'd for word of Confent; you have also sent many messengers to your Mistris, to her Parents and Tutors, who were as able to express themselves as the best Orators, but could obtain nothing; yet at last that long desired Word, is once descended by the Draw-bridge of her lips, like a rich cordial upon your languishing heart. You have vanquish'd all your Rivals. Oh who [Page]

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[Page] [Page 17] can imagine your joy! What you think, or what you do, still your thoughts glance upon your happiness! your Mistris now will be willing; de­nials are laid aside: only ther's a little shame and fear, which canot of a sud­den be so totally forgotten, because the marriage is not yet concluded. Well, o Lover, who could desire a greater happiness then you now pos­sess! For what you will, she will also: and what she desires, is all your plea­sure. You may now tumble in a bed of Lillies and Roses; for all sour looks, are turn'd to sweet smiles, and she that used to thrust you from her, pulls you now every foot to her. Yea, those snow-white breasts, which before you durst scarce touch with your little finger; you may now, without asking leave, grasp by whole handfuls. And the place which your thoughts durst hardly approach to, you may now take hold of with your five-pointed [Page 18] fork. Certainly, they that at full view, consider all this rightly; who can doubt but that you are the hap­piest man in the World? O unspeaka­ble pleasure!

But, o triumphant Lover, let not however your joyfull mind run too much upon these glistering things: be a little moderate in your desired pleasures, if it might happen that there come some cross-grain'd obstru­ctions; for I have oftentimes seen, that all those suspected roses, come forth with many pricking thorns; in­somuch that the mouth which at first was saluted with so many thousand kisses, and appear'd as if it had been cover'd with the dew of heaven; was compared to be the jaws of Cerberus. And those breasts, which before were the curded Nacter-hills, and called the Banket of the Gods, I have seen despised to be like stinking Cows-Udders, I, and call'd worse names to boot. Be therefore, (I say) somewhat [Page 19] moderate and prudent, for fear it might happen that the prices of this market might fall very suddenly, though perhaps not so horribly.

Nevertheless you have great reason to be merry, for this week, 'tis hop'd there'l be a meeting to close up the match; and it is requisite, that you should go unto all the friends, that must be present at the meeting, to hear when their occasions will per­mit them, and what day and hour they will appoint to set upon the bu­siness, herewith you have work to traverse the City, and who knows whether you'l find half of them at home. And then those that you do find, one is ready to day, another to morrow, a third next day, or in the next week. So that by this first Plea­sure, you have also a little feeling of the first trouble. Which, if you rightly consider, is to your advantage, because you may the better use your self to the following. And of how [Page 20] greater State and Quality the person is whom you have chosen, so accor­dingly this trouble generally happens to be more.

But the mirth increases abundant­ly; when, after your indeavours, trou­bles and turmoils, you finally see all the friends met together, and you doubt not but the match will be closed and agreed upon. But be here also a little moderate in your mirth, because oftentimes the friends handle this matter like a bargaining; and will lay the mony bags of each side in a balance, as you may see by the Plate.

In the mean while you may be kis­sing and slabbering of your Mistris in the next room; or contriving what's to be done about the marriage, and keeping of the Wedding; but perhaps. through the discord of the friends, it will not be long before you are distur­b'd; the differences oft rising so high, that the sound thereof, clatters [Page 21] through the Walls, into the ears of the Lovers. For many times the Por­tion of one is too great, and what's given with the other is too little; or that the Parents of the Bridegroom, promise too little with their Son; and the Brides Parents will give too little with their Daughter. Or else that by some subtle Contract of Matrimony, they indeavour to make the goods of each side disinheritable, &c. So that it appears among the friends, as if there could be nothing don in the matter.

And in plain truth, the Parents and friends, who know very well that it is not all hony in the married estate; see oftentimes that it were better for these two to remain unmarried, then to bring each other into misery; and can find no grounds or reasons, but rather to disswade then perswade the young folks to a marriage.

But tho, on each side, they use [Page 22] never such powerfull arguments, to the young people, 'tis to no purpose; for there's fire in the flax, and go how it will, it must be quencht. For the maid thinks, if this match should be broke, who knows but that all the freedom that we have had with one another, might come to be spread abroad, and then I am ruined for ever. And the young man, seeing that his Mistris is so constant to him, not hearkning to the advice of her friends, is so struck to the heart with such fiery flames of love, that he's re­solved never to leave her, tho he might feed upon bread and water, or go a begging with her: So, that he saies, Bargain by the Contract of Matrimony for what you will, nay tho you would write Hell and Dam­nation, I am contented, and resolve to sign it: but thinking by himself, with a Will all this may be broken, and new made again: hardly belee­ving, that this fair weather, should be [Page 23] darkned with black clouds; or that this splendent Serenissimo, would be obstructed by Eclipses.

But finally, there comes an appea­rance of the desired pleasure; for the knot is tied, and the Publick Notary doth at large and very circumstantial­ly write the Contract of Matrimony, which is signed by both parties. Oh Heavens! this is a burthen from my heart, and a Milstone removed out of the way. Here's now right matter for more then ordinary mirth; all the friends wish the young couple much joy; about goes a health, the good success of the marriage, and every one wishing them tubs full of bles­sings, and houses full of prosperi­ty,

If ev'ry one that wish, did half but give,
How richly this young couple, then might live.

Yet it ee'n helps as much as it will; if [Page 24] they get nothing, they lose nothing by it. And thinking by themselves, you'l in time see what it produces. Then if there be but one among them who is talkative, and that by drinking merrily the good success of the ap­proaching marriage, his tongue be­gins to run; he relates what hapned to him at the closing of his marriage, keeping of his wedding, and in his married estate; and commonly the conclusion of his discourse is, that he thought at first he had the World at will; but then there came this, and then that, and a thousand other vexa­tious things, which continually, or for the most part of the time with great grief and trouble had kept him so much backward, that it was long before he could get forward in the World.

Well, Mr. Bridegroom, you may freely tickle your fancy to the top, and rejoice superabundantly, that the Match is concluded; & you have now [Page 25] gotten your legs into the stocks, and your arms into such desired for Fet­ters, that nothing, but death it self can unloosen them.

And you, Mrs. Bride, who look so prettily, with such a smirking coun­tenance; be you merry, you are the Bride; yea the Bride that occasions all this tripping and dansing; now you shall have a husband too, a Protector, who will hug and imbrace you, and somtimes tumble and rumble you, and oftimes approach to you with a morning salutation, that will comfort the very cockles of your heart. He will (if all falls out well) be your comforter, your company-keeper, your care taker, your Gentleman-Usher; nay all what your heart wish for, or the Heavens grant un­to you. He'l be your Doctor to cure your palefac'dness, your pains in the reins of your back, and at your heart, and all other distempers whatsoever. He will also wipe of all your [Page 26] tears with kisses; and you shall not dream of that thing in the night, but he'l let it be made for you by day. And may not then your Bride-maids ask, why should not you be merry?

But alas you harmless Dove, that think you are going into Paradice; pray tell me, when you were going to sign the Contract of marriage, what was the reason that you alter'd so mightily, & that your hand shook so? Verily, though I am no Astronomer, or caster of Figures; yet nevertheless me-thought it was none of the best signs; and that one might already be­gin to make a strange Prognostica­tion from it; the events whereof would be more certain then any thing that Lilly or any other Almanack­maker ever writ. But we'l let that alone, for in a short time it will disco­ver it self.

Therefore, Mistress Bride, make you merry, and since you have gotten your desire to be the Bride before any [Page 27] of your Bridemaids; it would be un­reasonable that you should be trou­bled now with any other business. And indeed here's work enough for the ordering of things that you must trouble your head with; for the Brides Apparel must be made, and the Stufs, laces, lining, cuffs, and many other things are yet to be bought. Well, who can see an end of all your busi­ness! There's one piece of stuf is to light, and another to dark; the third looks dull and hath no gloss. And see here's three or four daies gon, and little or nothing bought yet.

And the worst of all is, that whil'st you are thus busie in contriving, or­dering and looking upon things, you are every moment hindered, & taken off from it, with a continual knocking at the dore to sollicite one to deliver all sorts of Confits, another to deli­ver the ornaments for the Brides Garland, Flowers, &c. a third to be Cook, & Pastryman, & so many more, [Page 28] which come one after another thun­dering so at the door, that it is one bodies work to let them in, and carry their messaget to the Bride.

Oh, call the Bride, time will de­ceive us! The Semstress, Gorget­maker, and Starcher, must be sent for, and the linnen must be bought & ordered for the Bridegrooms shirts, the Brides smocks, Cuffs, Bands, and handkerchifs; & do but see, the day is at an end again: my brains are almost addle, and nothing goes forward: For Mrs. Smug said she would bring lin­nen, and Mrs. Smooth-laces, but neither of them both are yet come. Run now men and maids as if the Devil were in you; and comfort your selves, that the Bride will reward you liberally for your pains.

Well, Mrs. Bride, how's your head so out of order! might not you now do (as once a Schoolmaster did) hang out the sign of a troubled pate with a Crown upon it? How glad you'l be [Page 29] when this confusion is once over? could you ever have thought that there was so much work to be found in it? But comfort your self therewith, that for these few troublesom daies, you'l have many pleasant nights. And it is not your case alone, to be in all this trouble, for the Bridegroom is running up and down like a dog, in taking care that the Bains of Matrimony may be proclaim'd. And now he's a running too and again through the City, to see if he can get Bridemen to his mind, that are capacitated to entertain the Bridemaids and Gentlewomen with pretty discourses, waiting upon them, & to make mirth & pleasure for them and the rest of the Company. Besides that he's taking care for the getting of some good Canary, Rhenish & French Wines, that those friends which come to wish the Bride and Bride­groom much joy, may be presented with a delicate glass of Wine. And principally, that those who are busie [Page 30] about the Brides adornments, may tast the Brides tears.

But really friends, if you come to tast the Brides tears now, 'tis a great while too soon: But if you'l have of the right and unfeigned ones, you must come some months hence.

O Bridegroom, who can but pitty you, that you must thus toil, moil, and run up and down, and the Jewel­ler and you have just now mist one another; he is doubtless chatting with the Bride, and shewing of her some costly Jewels, which perhaps dislike her ne'r a whit the worse; and what she has then a mind to, you'l find work enough to disswade her from, let them cast what they will; for she'l let you take care for that. And it is time enough to be considered on, when the weddings over. For now you have as much work as you can turn your self to, in getting all your things in a readiness from the Tailor, Semstress, and Haberdasher. And [Page 31] herewith, alas, you'l find that often­times two or three weeks are con­sumed in this sort of business, with the greatest slavery imaginable.

Yet, Mr. Bridegroom, for all these troubles, you may expect this reward, to have the pleasure of the best place in the Chancel, with a golden Ta­pistry laid before you, and for your ho­nour the Organs playing. The going with a Coach to marry at a Country Town, has not half so much grace, and will not at all please the Bride: it is therefore requisite to consult with the friends on both sides, who shall be invited to the wedding, and who not. For it seldom happens, but there is one broil or another about it; and that's no sooner don, but there arises a new quarrel, to consider, how richly or frugally the Guests shall be treated; for they would come off with credit and little charge. To this is requi­red the advice of a steward, because it is their daily work. And he for fa­vour [Page 32] of the Cook, Pasterer, and Poul­terer (reaping oftentimes his own be­nefit by it) orders all things so libe­rally as he can make the people be­leeve that is requisite. And the Bride thinks, the nobler it is, the better I like it, for I am but once the Bride. But this matter being dispatcht, there's another consideration to be taken in hand, to know how the Bride & Bride­grooms friends shall be plac'd at the Table, the ordering whereof, many times causes such great disputes, that if they had known it before, they would rather have kept no Wedding. In somuch that the Bridegroom and the Bride, with sighing, say to one another, alas, what a thick shel this marriage-nut hath, before one can come to the kernel of it. But Bride­groom to drive these damps out of your brain, there's no better remedy then to go along with your Bridemen to tast the Wedding wine; for there must be sure care taken that it may be [Page 33] of a delicate tast and relish; Because that which was laid in before, was not so delicious as is required for such a noble Wedding, where there will be so many curious tasters. Ha! riva! Look to 't Bride and Bridemaids, you may now expect a jolly Bridegroom and Bridemen, for the Wine-Mer­chant is such a noble blade, that none of them all shall escape him, before they have drunk as many Glasses, as there are hoops upon the Wine-cask that they tasted of.

A dieu all care! the Wedding is at hand, who thinks now of any thing but super fluity of mirth? Away with all these whining, pining Carpers, who are constantly talking & prating that the married estate brings nothing but care and sorrow with it; here, to the contrary, they may see how all minds & intentions are knit together, to consume and pass away these daies with the most superabounding plea­sures. Away with sorrow. 'Tis not [Page 32] invited to be among the Wedding guests. Now there is nothing else to be thought on, but to help these Lo­vers that they may enjoy the kernel of the first pleasure of their marriage.

But really, there's poor Mally the maid, is almost dead with longing, and thinks her very heart in pieces, scarcely knowing when the first Wed­ding-night will be ended, that she might carry up some water to the young couple, and have a feeling of those liberal gifts that she shall receive from the Bridegroom and the Bride, for all her attendance, running and turmoiling. And her thoughts are, that no body has deserved it better, for by night and by day she waited upon them, and was very diligent and faithfull in conveyance of their Love-Letters; but all upon fair promises, having carried her self in the time of their wooing almost like a Bawd to the Bride; for which she never had in all the time but three gratuities from the Bridegroom,

[Page 33] And now the Bride is in the bed,
The former promises are dead.

Make your self merry amongst the rest of the Wedding guests, so far as is becoming you: who knows, but that some brave Gentlemans man, Coach­man, or neighbors servant, may fall in love with you; for many times out of one Wedding comes another, and then you might come to be a woman of good fashion. Udsbud Mally! then you would know, as well as your Mi­stress, what delights are to be had in the first Wedding night. Then you would also know how to discourse of the first Pleasure of marriage, and with the Bride expect the second.

THE SECOND PLEASURE.
The Woman goes to buy houshold-stuff. The unthankfulness of some of the Wedding-guests, and thankfulness of others.

WEll, young married people, how glad you must needs be, now the Wedding's over, and all that noise is at an end? You may nowly and sleep till the day be far spent! And not only rest yourselves quietly; but, to your desires, in the Art of Love, shew one another the exercise and handling of Venus Weapons.

Now you may practise an hundred delicious things to please your appeti­tes, & do as many, Hocus Pocus tricks more. Now you may out-do Aretin, [Page]

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[Page] [Page 37] and all her light Companions, in all their several postures. Now you may rejoice in the sweet remembrance, how sumptuous that you were, in Apparel, meat and drink, and all other ornaments that my Lady Bride, and Madam Spend-all, first invented and brought in practice. Now you may tickle your fancies with the pleasures that were used there, by dansing, maskerading, Fire-works, playing upon Instruments, singing, leaping, and all other sort of gambals, that youth being back'd with Bacchus strength uses either for mirth or wan­tonness.

O how merry they were all of'em! And how deliciously were all the dishes drest'd and garnisht! What a credit this will be for the Cook and Steward! Indeed there was nothing upon the Table but it was Noble, and the Wine was commended by every one. They have all earen gal­lantly, & drunk deliciously. Well, this [Page 38] is now a pleasant remembrance.

And you, O young Woman, you are now both Wife and Mistris your self; you are now wrested out of the command of your grinning and snar­ling narrow-soul'd Tutors (those hellish Curmugions) now you may freely, without controul, do all what you have a mind to; and receive there­with the friendly imbracings, and kind salutes of your best beloved. Verily this must needs be a surpassing mirth.

And you, O new made husband, how tumble you now in wantonness! how willingly doth liberal Venus her self, open her fairest Orchard for you! Oh you have a pleasure, that those which never tried, can in the least comprehend.

Well, make good use of your time, and take the full scope of your desires, in the pleasant clasping and caressing of those tender limbs; for after some few daies, it may be hungry care will [Page 39] come and open the Curtains of your bed; and at a distance shew you what reckonings you are to expect from the Jeweller, Gold-smith, Silk-man, Linnen-Draper, Vinter, Cook and others.

But on the t'other side again, you shall have the pleasure to hear your young Wife every moment sweetly discoursing that she must go with her Sister and her Aunt to buy houshold­stuf, Down beds, dainty Plush and quilted Coverlets, with costly Han­gings must be bought: And then she will read to you, her now made Hus­band, such a stately Register, that both your joy of heart, and jingling purse shall have a fellouw-feeling of it▪

For your Sweetest speaks of large Venetian Looking-glasses, China­ware, Plush Chairs, Turkish Ta­pistry, Golden Leather, rich Pi­ctures, a Service of Plate, a Sakerdan Press, an Ebbony Table, a curious Cabinet and child-bed Linnen cup­board, [Page 40] several Webs for Napkins and Tabel-cloaths, fine and course linnen, Flanders laces, and a thousand other things must be bought, too long to be hore related: For other things al­so that concern the furnishing of the house, they increase every day fresh in the brains of these loving and pru­dent Wives.

And when the Wife walks out, she must either have the Maid, or at least the Semstress, along with her; then neigbour John, that good care­full labourer, must follow them softly with his wheel-barrow, that the things, which are bought, may be carefully and immediately brought home.

And at all this, good Man, you must make no wry faces, but be pleasant and merry; for they are needfull in house-keeping, you can­not be without them; and that mony must alwaies be certainly ready, get [Page 41] it where you will. Then, saies the Wife, all this, at least, there must needs be, if we will have any people of fashion-come into our house.

You know your Beloved hath also some Egs to fry, and did bring you a good Portion, though it consist in immovable Goods, as in Houses, Orchards, and Lands that be often­times in another Shire. Thither you may go then, with your Hony, twice a year, for the refreshing of your spi­rits, and taking your pleasure to re­ceive the House-rents, fruits of the Orchards, and revenues of the Lands. Here every one salutes you with the name of Landlord; and, according to their Country fa­shion, indeavour to receive you with all civilities and kind entertain­ment. If, with their Hay-cart, you have a mind to go and look upon the Land, and to be a partici­pator [Page 42] of those sort of pleasures; or to eat some new Curds, Cream, Gam­mon of Bacon, and ripe Fruits, all these things; in place of mony, shall be willingly and neatly disht up to you.

For here you'l meet with com­plaints, that by the War the Houses are burnt, the Orchards destroied, and the growth of the Fields spoiled! therefore it is not fit that you should trouble the poor people, but think, this is the use, custom, and fruits of War. If the Impositions and Taxes run high, the Country Farmer can't help that; you know that the War costs mony, and it must be given, or else we should loose all.

At such a time as this, your only mirth must be; that, through this gal­lant marriage, you are now Lord of so many acres of Land, so many Or­chards, and of so many dainty Houses and Land. If your mony bags don't much increase by it at present, but [Page 43] rather lessen, that must no waies cloud your mirth. Would you trouble your self at such trivial things, you'd have work enough daily. We cannot have all things so to our minds in this World. For if you had your Wives Portion down in ready mony, you'd have been at a stand again, where, without danger, you should have put it out at interest; fearing that they might play Bankrupt with it. Houses and Lands are alwaies fast, and they will pay well, when the War is done.

Therefore you must drive these vapors out of your head, and make your self merry, with the hearing that your friends commend the entertai­ment they have had to the highest; and that two or three daies hence; the merry Bridemen and Bridemaids, with some of the nearest acquaintan­ce, will come a la grandissimo to give you thanks for all the respect & civilities that you have so liberally bestowed upon them; which will be [Page 44] done then with such a friendly and affectionate heart, that it will be im­possible for you, but you must invite them again to come and sup with you in the evening, and so make an addi­tion to the former Pleasure; by which means pleasantness, mirth, and friendship, is planted and advanced among all the friends and acquain­tance.

'Tis true, you'l be sure to hear that there were some at the Wedding who were displeased, for not being entertained according to their ex­pectations; and because their Uncle, a new married Niece; and some other friends were not seated in their right places; that Mrs. Leonora had a jole­pate to wait upon her; and Mr. Philip an old Beldam; Mr. Timothy was for­ced to wait upon a young snotty-nose; and that Squire Neefer could not sit easily, and Mrs. Betty's Gorget was rumbled; and that Mal, and Peg Stones, and Dol Dirty-buttocks, [Page 45] were almost throng'd in pieces; and could hardly yet any of the Sweet­meats; but you must not at all be troubled with this, for 'tis is a hard mat­ter to please every body. 'Tis enough that you have been at such a vast charge, and presented them with your Feast.

Truly, they ought to have been contented & thankfull to the highest degree; and what they are unsatis­fied with needed not to have cost you so much mony; for if you had left them all at home, you could have had no worse reward, but a great deal less charge. Comfort your self with this, that when it happens again, you will not buy ingratitude at so high a rate. 'Tis much better to invite them at two or three several times before hand, and entertain them with a merry glass of Wine, up and away; and then invite a small company which are better to govern and satis­fied.

[Page 46] 'Tis a great deal more pleasure for you, to see your Wives friends ani­mate one another, to come, a fort­night after the Wedding, and surprize you; with shewing their thankfulness and satisfaction for the respect they have received from you; and that they are alwaies desirous to cultivate the friendship, by now and then coming to give you a visit.

This is here again a new joy! and as long as you keep open Table and Cellar for them, that reception will keep all discontent from growing among them. Yes, and it will please your Wife too, extraordinary well.

And by thus doing, you will not be subject to (as many other men are) your Wives maundring that you en­tertained her friends so hungrily and unhandsomly; but, for this, you shall be both by her, and her friends, be­loved and commended in the highest degree: Yea it will be an incourage­ment that they in the same manner, [Page 47] will entertain your friends like an An­gel, and be alwaies seeking to keep a fair correspondence among them. So that in the Summer time, for an after­noons collation you'l see a Fruit­dish of Grapes, Nuts, and Peaches prepared for you; which cold Fruits must then be warm'd with a good glass of Wine. And in the Winter, to please your appetite, a dish of Pancakes, Fritters, or a barrel of Oisters; but none of these neither will be agreeable without a delicate glass of Wine. Oh quintessence of all mirth! Who could not but wish to get such Aunts, such Cousins, such Bridemen and Bridemaids in their marriage?

Therefore, if you meet with one or t'other of your Cousins, press him to go home with you, to refresh himself with a glass of Wine; O it will be ex­treamly pleasing to your Wife, and a double respect paid to him; because you bring him to a collation among [Page 48] other Cousins, and pretty Gentle­women, where the knot of friendship and familiarity is renewed and faster twisted. And who knows, if you bring in a Batchelor, but there may perhaps arise a new marriage, which would be extraordinarily pleasing to your Wife; for there is nothing more agreeable to the female sex, then that they may be instrumental in helping their Bride­maids to husbands. And thus you will see a double increase of your Minions, and your Wife get more friends to ac­company her, and drive fancies out of her head.

If your Wife should fail in her choice of houshold-stuff, and other sort of those appurtenances; doubt not but these will be prudent School-Mistresses for her, if she be unexpe­rienc'd, to counsel and advise her to buy of the richest and newest mode, and what will be neatest, and where to be bought. Oh these are so skilfull in the art of ordring things, that you [Page 49] need not difpute with your Wife about the hanging of a Picture above the Chinmey-mantel! for they'l pre­sently say, there's nothing better in that place then large China dishes; and that Bed-stead must be taken down, and another set up in the place with curious Curtains and Vallians, and Daslles: And thus, they will deliver themselves, like a Court full of wise Counsellors, for the plea­sure and instruction of your Beloved. Well, what could you wish for more? D'ye talk of mony? Pish, that's stamp'd with hammers: give it libe­rally; the good Woman knows how and where to lay it out. If there be but little mony by the hand; be silent of that, it might happen to disturb your Dear, and who knows wherein it may do her harm. It is not the fa­shion that Women, especially young married ones, should take care for that. 'Tis care enough for her, if she contrive and consider what must be [Page 50] bought, and what things will be most suitable together. For this care is so great, that she never wakens in the night, but she thinks on't; yea it costs her many an hours rest; therefore ought not to be so lightly esteemed.

And now, O young husband, since you are come to the first step of the School to exercise your patience; it is not fit that you should already begin to grumble and talk how needfull it is to be sparing and thrifty; that Mer­chandising and trading is mighty dead; that monies is not to be got in; and that here and there reckonings and bills must be paid: O no! you must be silent, tho you should burst with discontent. For herewith, per­haps, the whole house would be out of order; and you might get for an answer, How! have I married then a pittifull poor Bridegroom? This would be sad to hear.

Go therefore to School by Pytha­goras to learn silence; and to look [Page 51] upon all things in the beginning with patience; to let your Wife do her own pleasure; and to mix hony with your words. Then you shall possess the quintessence of this Pleasure fully, and with joyfull-steps enter upon the fol­owing.

THE THIRD PLEASURE.
The young couple walk daily abroad, being entertained and treated by all their friends and acquaintance; and then travell into the Country for their pleasure.

IF it be true that there is a Mountain of Mirth and pleasure for young married people to ascend unto, these are certainly the finest and smoothest conductors to it; that, because it was impossible to invite every one to the Wedding, this sweet Venus must be led abroad, and shewed to all her husbands friends & acquaintance: yea, all the World must see what a pretty couple they are, and how handsomly they agree together. To which end they trick and prick [Page]

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[Page] [Page 53] themselves daily up in their best ap­parel; garnishing both the whole ci­ty and streets with tatling and pratling; & staring into the houses of all their acquaintance to see whether they are looked at.

Do but see what a mighty and sur­passing mirth! for they hardly can go ten or twelve furlongs but they con­stantly meet and are saluted by some of their acquaintance, wishing them all health, happiness and prosperity; or by others invited to come in, and are treated according as occasion pre­sents, wishing them also much joy in their married estate; Yea the great Bowl is rins'd, and about goes a brim­mer to the good prosperity of the young couple. Well, thinks the young woman, what a vast difference there is between being a married woman & a maid! How every one receives & treats you! What respect and honour every one shews you! How you go daily in all your gallantry taking pleasure! [Page 54] And how every where you are fawn'd upon, imbrac'd and kist, receiving all manner of friendship! It is no wonder that all womankind are so desirous of marriage, and no sooner loose their first husbands, but they think imme­diately how to get a second? Oh, saith she, what a fulness of joy there is in the married estate, by Virginity! I resolve therefore to think also upon my Bridemaids, and to recommend them where ever there is occasion.

And this is the least yet, do but see! what for greater pleasure! for every foot you are invited out here & there to a new treat, that is oft-times as noble and as gallant as! the Wedding was, and are plac'd alwaies at the upper end of the Table. If next day you be but a little drousie, or that the head akes; the husband knows a present remedy to settle the brain; and the first thing he saith, is, Come lets go to see Master or Mistris such a one, and walk out of Town to refresh our selves, or else go [Page 55] and take the air upon the Thames with a Pair of Oars. Here is such a fresh mirth again that all Lambeth, the Bankside, and Southwark shakes with it. Oh that Apollo would but drive his horses slowly, that the day might be three hours longer; for it is too soon to depart, and that for fear of a pocky setting of the Watch. So that its every day Fair-time. Well, who is so blind that he cannot see the abun­dant pleasures of marriage?

To this again, no sooner has the young couple been some few daies at rest, and begin to see that the invite­ments decline; but the young woman talks of going out of Town together, and to take their pleasures in other Towns and Cities, first in the next adjacent places, and then to others that ly remoter; for, because she never was there, and having heard them commended to be such curious and neat places, she hath a great mind to see Oxford and Cambridge.

[Page 56] Yea, and then she saith, my dear, we must go also to see York, Glocester and Bristol, and take our pleasures those waies; for I have heard my Fa­thers Book-keeper often say, that it is very pleasant travelling thither, and all things very cheap. And when he began to relate any thing of Kent, and its multiplicity of fruit, my very heart leapt up for joy; thinking to my self, as soon as I am married, I will imme­diately be pressing my husband that we may go thither; because it seem'd to me almost incredible. And then again he would sometimes relate of Herefordshire what delicious Syder and Perry is made there, which I am a great lover of; truly Hony, we must needs go that way once, that I may say I have satiated my self with it, at the Fountain-head. Ah, my dearest, let us go thither next week.

It is most certain that the Good­man hath no mind at all to be thus much longer out of his house, & from [Page 57] his vocation; by reason he is already so much behind hand with his loss of time in Wooing, Wedding, Feasting and taking pleasure; but alas, let him say what he will, he cannot disswade her from it.

You may as soon retort the wind,
As make a woman change her mind.

In the night she dreams on't, and by day she talks on't, and alwaies con­cludes this to be her certain rule. The first year won't come again. ‘If we don't take some pleasure now, when shall we do it! Oh, my Dear, a year hence we may have a child, then its impossible for me to go any where, but I shall be tied like a Dog to a chain: And truly, why should not we do it as well as they & they did; for they were out a month or two, and took their pleasures to the purpose? my Mother, or my Cousin will look to our house; come let us go [Page 58] also out of Town! For the first year will not come again.’

Well, what shall the good man do? if he will have quietness with his wife, he must let her have her will, or else she will be daily tormenting of him. And to give her harsh language, he can't do that, for he loves her too well. His father also taught him this saying, for a marriage lesson, Have a care of making the first difference. If he speak unkindly to her, his Love might be angry, and then that would occasion the first difference, which he by no means willingly would be guilty of; for then these Pleasures would not have their full swing.

Well, away they go now out of Town: But, uds lid, what a weighty trunk they send the Porter with to the Carriers! For they take all their best apparel with them, that their friends in the Country, may see all their bra­very. And besides all this, there must be a riding Gown, and some other [Page 59] new accoutrements made for the journy, or else it would have no grace.

Now then, away they go, every one wishing them all health and pro­sperity upon their journy, & so do I.

But see! they are hardly ridden ten mile out of Town, before the young woman begins to be so ill with the horses jolting, that she thinks the World turns topsie-turvy with her. Oh she's so ill, that she fears she shall vomit her very heart up: Then down lights her husband, to take her of, and hold her head, and is in such a peck of troubles, that he knows not which way to turn or wind himself. Wishing that he might give all that he's worth in the World to be at a good Inn, And she poor creature falling into a swoon, makes him look as if he had bepist himself, & though he sighs and laments excessively she hears him not; which occasions him such an extremity of grief that he's [Page 60] ready to tear the hair off of his head. But the quamishness of her stomack beginning to decline, she recovers; and rising, they walk for a little space softly forwards; the good man think­ing with himself how he shall do to get his dearly beloved to an Inn, that she may there rest her distempered body. And then getting her up again, they ride very softly forwards, to get to the end of their journy.

Truly, I must confess, that amongst the rest of the Pleasures of marriage, this is but a very sorry one. But stay a little, yonder me thinks I see the Steeple, we shall be there presently; the little trouble and grief you have had, will make the salutations you receive, and the scituation of the place seem so much the pleasanter. And these dainty green Meadows will be a delicate refreshment. You'l find your stomack not only sharpned, but also curiously cleansed of all sorts of [Page 61] filthy and slimy humours. And you light not sooner from your horse then your appetite is ready to entertain what ever comes before you: The good Man in the mean while is con­triving at whose house he shall first what his knife, and where he thinks his poor wearied wife will receive the best entertainment and caresses, to drive out of her imaginations the troubles and wearisomness of her journy; which will the easier be dis­pensed with, when she walks out to see the rarities of the place, and to vi­sit your Cousins and relations. And so much the more, because every one will be wishing the new married couple much joy, receiving them kindly, and doing them all manner of pleasures and civilities: which I assure you is no small matter of mirth.

But every thing must have an end. It is therefore now very meet to speak of removing to some other City. But [Page 62] let the husband say what he will of tra­velling by horseback, she is struck on that ear with an incurable deafness.

They must have a Coach to them­selves, and the great Trunk must go along with them, or else the whole journy would have no grace. Neither would it be respect enough for them in the presence of so many good friends and acquaintance, unless the Coach come to take them up at the dore. And it must be done to. Here now one is returning thanks for th'en­tertainment, and the other for their kind visit, and withall wish the young couple that all content, pleasure, and delight may further attend them upon their journy, &c. Then it is Drive on Coachman, and away fly the poor jades through the streets, striking fire out of the liveless stones, as if Pluto just at the same time were upon the flight with his Proserpina through the City.

But, O new married couple, what [Page 63] price do you little think this mirth will stand you at? What man is there in the World, that hath ever an eye in his head, but must needs see, that if he tarry out long, this must be the ready way to Brokers-Hall. Yet neverthe­less I confess you must do it, if you in­tend to have any peace or quietness with your new wife.

These are the first fruits and plea­sures of marriage, therefore you must not so much as consider, nay hardly think, of being so long from home, though in the mean while all things there is going also the ready way to destruction; for it is the fashion, at such times, that maid, man, and all that are in your service, to act their own parts; and so merry they are that they possess their own freedom, and keep open Table, that the whole neighbourhood hears their laughter. Ask the neighbours when you come home, and you will quickly hear, that by them was no thought of care or [Page 64] sorrow; but that they have plaied, ranted and domineer'd so that the whole neighbourhood rung with it; and how they have played their parts either with some dried Baker, prick­louse Tailor, or smoaky Smith, they themselves know best.

Down goes the spit to the fire; the pudding pan prepared; and if there be either Wine, Beer or any thing else wanting; though the Cellar be lockt; yet, by one means or another, they find out such pretty devices to juggle the Wine out of the Cask, nay and Sugar to boot too; that their inven­tions surpass all the stratagems that are quoted by the Author of the Eng­lish Rogue; of which I could insert a vast number, but fear that it would occasion an ill example to the un­learned in that study. Howsoever they that have kept house long, and had both men & maid-servants, have undoubtedly found both the truth and experience hereof sufficiently. And [Page 65] how many maids, in this manner, have been eased of that heavy burther of their maidenheads, is well known to the whole World.

These are also some of the first fruits and delights of marriage; but if they were of the greatest sort, they might be esteemed and approved of to be curable, or a remedy found for prevention. Yet let them be of what state and condition they will, every one feels the damage and inconve­nience thereof, ten times more then it is outwardly visible unto him, or can comprehend. For if you saw it you would by one or other means shun or prevent it. But now, let it be who it will, whether Counsellor, Doctor, Merchant; or Shopkeeper, the one ne­glects his Clients Suit, the other his Patients, the third his Negotiation & Trade, and the fourth his Customers; none of them all oft-times knowing from whence it arises that their [Page 66] first years gain is so inconsiderable. For above the continual running on of house-rent, the neglect and unne­cessary expensive charge of servants; you consume your self also much mony in travelling and pleasure; be­sides the peril and uneasiness that you suffer to please and complaite your new married Mistris. O miserable pleasure!

But you will be sure to find the greatest calamity of this delight, as soon as you return home again; if you only observe the motions of your wife, for whose pleasure and felicity you have been so long from home. Alas she is so wearied and tired with tumbling and travelling up & down, that she complains as if her back were broke, and it is impossible for her to rise before it is about dinner time; nay and then neither hardly unless she hear that there is something pre­pared suitable to her appetite. If any thing either at noon or night is to be [Page 67] prepared and made ready, the husband must take care and give order for the doing of it; the good woman being yet so weary, that she cannot settle her self to it; yea it is too much for her to walk about her chamber, her very joints being as it were dislocated with the troublesomness of the journy.

In the mean while the servants they ly simpring, giggling, and laughing at one another, doing just what they list, and wishing that their Mistris might be alwaies in that temper, then they were sure to have the more freedom to themselves: the which, though done by stealth, they make as bad as may be: and yet hardly any man, tho he had the eyes of Argolus can atrrap them; for if by chance you should perceive any thing, they will find one excuse or another to delude you, and look as demure as a dog in a halter, whereby the good man is easily paci­fied and satisfied for that time.

[Page 68] And these things are more predo­minant, when there is a cunning slut of a Maid, that knows but how to serve and flatter her Mistris well, get­ting her by that means upon her side: in such cases you'l generally see two malds where one might serve, or else a Chair-woman; the one to do all the course work, the other to run of er­rands and lend a helping hand (if she hath a mind to it) that all things may the sooner be set in order; & she then with her Mistris may go a gadding.

And because Peggy & her Mistris, do in this manner, as it were, like a Jack in a box, jump into each others humour, the good woman may take her rest the better; for she hath care­takers enough about the house. And if the husband, coming from the Change or other important affair, seems to be any waies discontented, that all things lies stragling about the house, & are not set in order, presently crafty Peggy finds a fit expedient for [Page 69] it with complaining that her Mistris hath had such an insufferable pain in her head and in her belly, that it was beyond imagination; & also she could get no ease for her, unless she had pre­pared her some butter'd Ale, and a little mul'd Sack; and this is the reason why all things were not so ready as they ought to have been.

Herewith the good mans mouth is stopt. If he begins afterwards to speak with his wife concerning th'unneces­sary Chair-women; his answer is, prithee Sweetheart, don't you trouble your self with those things, leave that to me, J'l manage that to the best ad­vantage; men have no understanding about house-keeping, & it is most pro­per for a woman to have the gover­nance of her Maids. And also Sweet­heart, if there be now and then occa­sion for a semstress or a Chairwoman, they are things of so small impor­tance, that they are not worth the speaking of.

[Page 70] Now, if he will have peace and quietness at home, this reply must give him full satisfaction; and tho he be never so patient, viewing all things at a distance; yet the maids behind his back, that their Mistris may more then over-hear it, dare call him, a Tom Peep in the pot, or Goodman busie­body. And before dinner is fully done, he must hear Peg asking her Mistris; Mistris, wont you please forsooth, to go by and by and give Mistris Moody a visit, or discourse a little with Ma­dam Elenor? As long as you have nothing to do, what need you ty your self to any thing? Pray tell her that story that the North Country Gen­tleman related, which you laught at yesterday so heartily. Madam Elenor will admire at it. And I'm sure she hath something that she will relate unto you. Herewith the good Mistris begins to get a drift, and away she goes with Peg out of dores. Let it go then as it will with the house keep­ing.

[Page 71] This is also no small pleasure, when the Mistris and the Maid alwaies agree so lovingly together! then the husband need not go any more out of Town to please his wives fancy; for she can now find pleasure enough by her old acquaintance sweet Mistris Moody, and courteous Madam Ele­nor.

Do but see now, O Lovers, what multiplicity of roses, and thistles there are in the very Porch of the Wilder­ness of Marriage; you may think then what the middle and end must be.

THE FOURTH PLEASURE.
The Wife goes a pratling by her Neigh­bours; complaining of her barren­ness, and takes Physick sor it.

VErily it is a great pleasure for the new married cou­ple, that they have been up and down taking their pleasure, and have been feasted by all their acquaintance.

Now they have travelled from place to place, and taken a full view of what friends and relations each other hath; and seen also the great difference there is in the ornaments, neatness, manners and deportments of each place, and also how pleasant the Hills, Dales and Meadows lie, with their silver streaming Brooks; but most par­ticularly, how neatly and compleatly [Page]

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[Page] [Page 73] one may, for their mony, be treated. Yet come finally to a consideration within themselves of the weakness and vanity of his pleasure; perceiving that all those who possess it, at last conclude it burthensom, and have a longing desire to be at home again in a frugal management of housekeep­ing at their own Tables.

Verily, this is that happy hour of pleasure that the new married man hath been long seeking for; to the end he might once be freed from all such idle expences, and be again carefully looking after his affairs and vocation. Now he begins to hope that all things will come into a handsom posture; also not doubting, but that his wife will, having had her full swing and hearts content of treats and all other sorts of pleasures, begin like a House-Wife, to order her self to take some care for the concerns of the Family, which indeed oft-times falls out so, to the great joy, profit, and tranquility [Page 74] of the good man.

But can it be possible that this sweet pleasure should be so disht up, without some bitter sauce of discon­tent? O kind Husband, if you will beleeve that, then you may well think the whole state and term of your mar­riage to be a Paradice upon earth; and that you have already got footing in the high-way to all fullness of plea­sures and contentments: Yet tarry a few daies, and then experience will give you a better understanding of further pleasures.

For the new Wife is no sooner come to be at quiet; but she begins to complain, that she can hardly addict her self to this new way of life; that it appears very strange and odly to her to converse with a new Maid, by reason she must be telling her this thing, and commanding her the t'other; and have a regard of all what she does, which are things that she before never used to trouble her self [Page 75] with; and that it is such a trouble to her to be out of her Parents house, in a strange dwelling place: Nay, this oft-times surges so high, that the good man hath his hands full of work to comfort her, and to talk these foolish fancies out of her noddle; and verily, unless he can bridle her frivol­ous humour with some pleasant dis­courses, and dry up her tears with no small number of kisses; oh then he'l be sadly put to't. And if this all falls out well, before six weeks are at an end, there'l appear another dark cloud again, to eclipse this splendant Sun­shine.

For behold, within a very small time the good woman begins to scrape acquaintance, and get some fa­miliarity with her neighbours, which increaseth from day to day more and more; nay oftentimes it comes to that height, she's better to be found among her neighbours, then at home in her own family. Here she sees Mistris [Page 76] Wanton playing with her child that is a very pretty Babe. There she sees Mistres Breedwell making ready her Child-bed linnens and getting of her Clouts together. Yonder Mistris Mau­dlen complains that she doth not prove with child; & then Mistres Young-at-it brags how nearly she could rec­kon from the very bed-side. Oh then she thinks I have been married this three months, and know nothing at all of these things; it is with me still as if I were yet a maid: What certainly should be the reason thereof?

This is the first occasion that be­gets a great disturbance in the brain­pan and imagination; and wo be to the good man, if he doth not under­stand his Py-work well! Then to the end she may hear. The better how things goes; she inquires very ear­nestly amongst her acquaintance what caresses they receive from their hus­bands; and most shamlesly relates what hath passed between her and [Page 77] her husband, twixt the curtains, or under the Rose; which she doth to that purpose, that she may hear whe­ther her husband understands his work well, and whether he doth it well, and oft enough; and also whether he be fully fit for the employ, &c. for the verification whereof the Councel of wo men bring so many compleat rela­tions, that it is a shame to think, much more to speak of them.

Whosoever she speaks with every one pities her, and gives her their advice: And the best sort will at the least say to her, I would oftentimes treat my husband with such sort of spicesas were good for my self, viz. Oisters, Egs, Coxcombs, sweet breads, Lam-stones, Caveer, &c. and counsell him every morning to go to the Coffe-house and drink some Chocolate; & above all things advise him to desist from Tabacco and drying things, or any other things that are too cooling for the kidneys. [Page 78] then I would many times my self by dallying with him, and some other pretty Wanton postures, try to pro­voke him to it; whereby he should surely know that it was neither your coolness, nor want of desire that might be blamed in it; but rather al­waies confess, that you had sufficient­ly done your indeavour.

Who will doubt but that she puts this advice, in operation? O happy man, who art now every foot treated with some new sorts of kickshaws at your Table; and have free leave to fre­quent the Coffy-house, which other women grumble and mumble at. And besides all this, you find that your dearest embraceth you as if you were an Angel, and shews you a thousand other friendly entertainments that are beyond imagination to express: it is alwaies in the evening, my Dear come to bed: and in the morning, pray Love ly a little longer. These are most certainly very great pleasures.

[Page 79] But if the Woman marks that this helps not, and that all things remain in the old posture, then she begins to mump and maunder at her husband; vaunting much of her own fitness, and not a little suspecting her husbands; oftentimes calling him a Fumbler, a dry-boots, and a good man Do­little, &c.

This makes him look as if he had beshit him self. And though he never so much indeavours to vindicate him­self; and also to perswade her from the reasons and examples given by several learned Doctors; Culpepper; the Queens Midwife; and some others of his friends and acquaintance that he demonstrates unto her; it is all but wind. She still complains, I must have a Child, or else I shall run dis­tracted.

And this manner of frantickness hath so vehemently struck into her brains, that the very house seems to burn over her head: Insomuch that [Page 80] she's no sooner risen from her bed or from the Table, but immedialy she goeth a gadding amongst the neigh­bours; and takes other peoples chil­dren in her arms, kissing and slabbring of them so unmeasurably, as if she would almost devour them with love; nay she useth-more simple and chil­dish actions with them, then ever own mothers have done. By which means the children have many times as great an affection for their neighbour, as they have for their own Father and Mother.

This gadding out of dores doth undoubtedly a little trouble her hus­band: Bat when he begins to consi­der, that his wife by this means knows how to handle, and make much of children; and then again, that she thus beforehand learns it for nothing; it must of necessity be no less then a great pleasure for him. And so much the more, whilest she is pratling with her neighbour, and playing with her [Page 81] child; he is freed from the nurse of hearing her sighs and complaints to have a child. For she's no sooner wi­thin the dores, but she talks of her neighbours child, and wishes with the loss of all that shes world in the World that she had such a one too; which continues alwaies so long, that finally she bursts out into the like for­mer frenzy against her husband: see there I must have a child also, or else I shall run distracted.

But what remedy? which way he turns or winds himself, he finds no means or way how to pa­cifie his wife. And therefore thinks it best himself to take th'advice of Doctor, and most especially with that French Doctor, who is so renowned for his skill of making many men and women that be­fore were barren and unfruitfull to conceive children: Insomuch that they do now every year pre­cisely bear a young son, or a [Page 82] daughter, yea somtimes two at a time: It is thereby also very necessary that the good woman her self consult with some experienced Midwives, and old Doctresses; to the end, that those dis­tempers which are the occasion of barrenness, might be the better re­moved and taken away.

To this end there are almost as many Boxes and Gally-pots brought together, as would near upon furnish an Apothecaries shop: Then to work they go with smearing, anointing, chafing, infusing, wherewith (as they term it) the good woman is to be made fresh and fit; but they make the bed and whole house so full of stink and vapours, that it may be said they rather stop the good and wholesom pores and other parts of the body; then to open those that were stopt and caused Distempers.

But in the conclusion we find it to be both fruitless and miserable, where the good woman goes to seek it by [Page 83] th' Apothecary; even as her husband doth out of the Oister and Eg-shels.

And if this will not do now; where shall the poor man hide his head next? What shall he do more to please and pacifie her? He thinks upon all the ways and means possible to entertain her to content. If she will have costly things, he will buy them for her; and and dissimulately saith that all what she practiseth for her content, is his only pleasure and delight: yea, al­though her pride and ambition many times in several things flies too high, and oft-times also doth not happen to be very suitable with the constitution of the cash; he dares in no wise con­tradict her, for he fears that she will presently be at variance with him again: And thinks in the interim, whilest her mind hangs upon these things, she forgets her maunding and mumbling for a child. Still hoping that there will come one happy night, that may crown his earnest desires with [Page 84] fructivity; this it is that makes him that he dares not anger her or give her a sour countenance; fearing that if she might have conceived, that would be the means of turning the tide.

To be short, it is his only and greatest delight to see that his wife is well satisfied and receiveth her con­tent and pleasure; which is very hard to be practised, so long as she is not with child.

But ô what a joy there will be if he may be but once so happy as to hit that mark! How will the first day of her reckoning to ly in stand in his Almanack, as if it were printed with a red Letter! Well young peo­ple, be contented; Long look'd for comes at last to the satisfaction of the Master.

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[Page 85]THE FIFTH PLEASURE.
The young Woman proves with Child, and longs.

THe old Proverb tels us, that after the sour comes the sweet; and I find, jolly couple, that it is so with you also; for I hear finally that your wife is big with child: Well what a Pleasure is that! Certainly, now you see that all your Doctoring and medi­cining hath been to some purpose, and now you feel also that all herbs were made for some good effects.

How happy a thing it is that you have made use of a learned Doctor, and an experienced Midwife. Now is the only time to be very carefull, for fear the least accident might turn the side with the young woman, and [Page 86] so she get a mischance, or some other sad mishap; and a mischance is worse for her then a true Childbearing; for that weakens nature abundantly, and oftentimes brings with it several sad consequences, & Thus the wo­men talk.

But you, ô noble Champion, who have behaved your self so gallantly; continne now to reap the further con­quests of your honour. Look not at any small matters; and most espe­cially if you hope or desire to gain the principal prize of your pleasure. For be assured, that you must suffer much, and see through a perspective glass all things at a distance; because you ne­ver before saw your wife in so gallant a state and condition as she now is in; and therefore you must cherish and preserve her much more then former­ly you have done. If you hear her of­ten grunt and groan, mumble and chide, either with the men or maid­servants; nay, though it were with [Page 87] your own self, you must pass it by, not concerming your self at it; and imagine that you do it for the respect you bear your wife, but not by con­straint; for it is common with big­bellied women to do so.

But most especially rejoice in your self, if this grunting and groaning happen only by day time; because then you may somtimes avoid it, or diver­tise your self with other company. Yet by night generally shall the good woman be worst of all? therefore be sure to provide your self well with pure Aniseed, Clove, Cniamon-wa­ters, and good sack, that you may therewith be ready to strengthen and assist her. For it will often happen that when you are in your best and first Sleep, that your dearest wil wa­ken you and complain of pain at her heart, of dizziness and great faint­ness; then all what is in the house must be stirring, and you your self also, though it be never so cold, out [Page 88] to the bed you must with all the speed possible. Comfort your self here­with, that this was one of the plea­sures which you got with your wife, though it was not set down in the Contract of marriage.

Now for this again you alwaies re­ceive the honour, that when you are invited with her to any place at a treat, the best that is upon the Table shall be presented to the big-bellied wo­man: Yea if she long or have a desire to any thing; immediately every one that observes it; are ready to serve her with it; nay, though there were never so little in the Dish, her long­ing must be fully satisfied, if no body else should so much as tast of it. And by this means oftentimes the good woman is so ill and disturbed, that she is forced to rise from the Table, and falls from one faintness into another; which for civilities sake, is then bapti­zed, that she hath sat too high or been throng'd, or that the room being [Page 89] so full, the breath of the people offen­ded her.

And though she perceives that this every foot makes her so ill; yet for the most part she will be so choice and so dainty, that she seldom knows her self what she will eat or hath a mind to; but generally it tends to some thing or other that is delicate: Upon this manner again, according to the former custom, she tumbles it in till she is sick with it; and if any one looks but very wishly at her; im­mediately another saies to them; she must eat for two, nay perhaps for three.

And not only that in this manner she grows so delicate and glutto­nous; but is thereby so easie and lazy, that she can hardly longer indure her sowing cushion upon her lap. Also sitting is not good for her, for fear the child there­by might receive some hindrance and an heartfufullness. Therefore she must often walk abroad; and to [Page 90] that end an occasion is found to go every day a partling and gossiping then to this and then to another place; in the mean while leaving her hus­band without a wife, and the family without a mistris.

Then in conclusion this falls also burthensom to her, (as it is generally with all things that are too frequently used) then she will be for spurring you up to walk abroad with her, that she may get all sorts of fruits and other fopperies that the season of the year affords; and at the first baiting-place she's for some Cream with sugar, stewd prunes, and a bottle of sideror perry; and thus abroad to spend much, and at home neglect more.

If she have then gone somthing far, she is so excessive weary with it, that if her life must ly at stake, she cannot set one foot further. Herewith is the poor man absolutely put to a stand: ride she may not, or all the fat would be in the fire; and they are so deep in [Page 91] the Country that there is somtimes neither Coach nor boat to be had.

And if you should happen to be where a River is, there's never a boat to be had; but if there should be one, then you must be subject to humour the churlish Ferry man, who seeing the necessity of the occasion, and that you are able to pay for it, will have what price he pleases. And somtimes again you are timorous your self to hazard it, because many women are very fearfull upon the water.

But indeed, if by this an happy oc­casion, a good expedient may be found to please your dearly beloved, it is no small joy. Well then make your self jocund herewith, to the end that other troubles may not so much mo­lest and disturb you.

You may also be very well assured, that your wife no sooner comes to be a little big-bellied, but she receives the priviledge to have all what she hath a mind to & that is called Long­ing: [Page 92] And what husband can be so stern or barbarous that he will deny his wife at such a time what she longs for? especially if it be a true love of a woman, you must never hinder her of her longing; for then certainly the child would have some hindrance by it.

For as much then as is necessary that you alwaies seek to avoid and prevent this, you must observe, that all wo­men when they are with child, do fall commonly from one longing to another: And then the providing and buying of that for them, must be as great a pleasure to you as it is to them in the receiving and use of it; and that not alone for theirs, but your childs sake also. And truly he that will or cannot suit himself to this humour, will be very unhappy, be­cause he shall not then receive the full scope and freedom of this plea­sure.

It is also most certain that these [Page 93] longing desires doth transport their imaginations from one finical thing to another: If it be in the summer, then they long for China Oranges, Sivil Lemmons, the largest Aspa­ragus, Strawberries with wine and sugar, Cherries of all sorts, and in like manner of Plums, and these they must have their fill of: And then when they have gotten through the continuance their full satisfaction thereof; then be assured they begin to long for some great Peaches and Apricocks; and though they be ne­ver so scarce and dear, yet the wo­man must not lose her longing, for the child might get a blemish by it.

If then Apples and Pears begin to grow ripe, you have the same tune to sing again; for she is possessed with a new longing desire as bad, as if it were a Quotidian Ague in all the joints of her body; and whatsoever comes new to her sight, creates in [Page 94] her a fresh longing. If she gets one hour curious Catherine Pears, Pip­pins, or Russetings, the next she hath a mind to Filberds; and then an hour or two later Wall-nuts and Grapes fall into her thoughts; do what you will there's no help for it, her longing must be satisfied, let it go as it will, or cost what it will.

And this her longing leads her from one thing to another, of all what the richness of the summer, or libe­rality of the harvest, out of their su­perstuities pour down upon us. Inso­mach that the good man wishes a thousand times over that he might once be rid of these terrible charges and greatexpence.

But alas what helps it? there's no season of the year but gives us some or other new fruits that the women have alwaies a new longing desire to. And if it be in the Winter, then they long for juicy Pomgranates, new Wine upon the must, with Chesnuts; [Page 95] then for Colchester Oisters; then again for Pancakes and Fritters; and indeed for a thousand several sorts of such toys and fancies as do but appear before their longing imaginations. And oftentimes it is no real longing, for that were then pardonable, but a liquorish delicate desire that they are sick of; as may be seen by those who simply imagine themselves to be with child, are alwaies talking of this and t' other dainty that they long after. And that which is worst of all, is that both they and those that are really with child, long commonly for that which is scarcest and hardest to be got­ten: Yea in the very middle of winter they oftentimes long to have a Green­goose or young Chickens; which in some places are very hard to be got, and not without paying ex excessive dear for-them.

This longing being so satisfied; immediately arises another, and no­thing will serve Meats, and several [Page 96] sorts of Comfits. Yea how often happens it, though it rain, snow, and is very slippery, that both the husband and the maid, if never so dark and late in the night, must trot out and fetch candied Ginger, dried Pears, Gnigerbread, or some such sort of liquorish thing. And what is to be imagined, that can be cried about in the streets by day time, but her longing before hath an appetite prepared for it?

Yea through an excessive eating of raw fruits, and feeding upon mul­tiplicities of sweet-meats; to fulfill their longing; it turns to a griping of the guts and overflowing of the Gall, which again occasion Cholick, & ma­nytimes other lamentable pains. Here is is then another new work. There the Doctor must be presently fetcht, and according to what he pleases to order, either a Glister must be set, or some other Physick taken for it.

But by reason these things are not [Page 97] so pleasant to the good woman as the foregoing liquorish delicacies; she thinks it best that the Midwife be sent for, because she hath a great deal bet­ter knowledge touching the infirmi­ties of women then the Doctors: Then she is fetcht, and having done the first part of her office, she gives her good comfort; and orders her to take only some of the best white Wine, simper'd up with a little Orange­peel, well sweetned with sugar, and so warm drunk up; and then anoint your self here, and you know where, with this salve; and for medicines [that are most to be found in Confe­ctionres or Pasterers shops] you must be sure to make use of those, then your pain will quickly lessen. You must not neglect also ofttimes to eat a piece of bread and butter with either Caroway or Aniseed Comfits; use also Cinnamon; the first expels wind, and the second strengthens the heart; and they are both good for the woman and [Page 98] the child. Be sure also to drink every morning and every evening a glass of the best sack, for that strengthens the fruit of the womb, and occasions you a good quickness, &c.

Who will doubt, but that she obeys the orders of the Midwife, much bet­ter then that of the Doctors. And verily there is also a great deal of dif­ference in the suffering, of such or uneasie fumbling at the back part; or the receiving of such pleasant and ac­ceptable ingredients. And so much the more, when she begins to remember that Doctor Drink-fast used to tell her, that Medicins never make so good an operation, when they are at any time taken against the appetite, or with an antipathy, by the Patient.

Thus you may see, approaching Father, how you are now climb'd up to a higher step of glory: Your manly deeds, make your name renowned; and your joy is so much augmented that your wife looks alwaies merrily [Page 99] and pleasantly upon you, for giving her content; and she now also sa­lutes you with the most sweetest and kindest names imaginable; you must also now be her guest upon all sorts of Summer and Winter fruits, & a thou­sand other kinds of liquorish and most acceptable dainties. Insomuch that although you did not come into the streets in six months, you may by the humour and actions of your wife know perfectly when Strawberries, Cherries, Apples, Pears, Nuts & Grapes, are in season. And there is no geater pleasure for your best beloved, then that she sees you eat as heartily of them as she her self doth.

Confess then unfeignedly, from the very bottom of your heart; are not these great Pleasures of marriage? And be joyfull; for this is only a beginning, the best comes at last. Know likewise, that this is but as a fore-runner of the sixth Pleasure, and will both touch you at heart, and tickle your purse [Page 100] much better: Yea, insomuch that the experience thereof will shew you that there is a whole mountain of pleasures to be found in the bands of Wedlock. Whereby I fear, that you will, per­haps, make a lamentable complaint, of your no sooner arriving at this hrppiness.

But comfort your felf herewith; that the medicaments of the Doctor and Midwife, perhaps have done such a wished for operation, that you there­by may obtain many Sons and Daugh­ters, which you may then timely ad­monish and instruct to that duty, so long by your self neglected, and in a manner too late to repent of.

Doubt not, but assuredly beleeve, that now you are once gotten into the right road, you may easily every year see a renovation of this unspea­kable pleasure; and beholding your wife oftentimes in this state; in like mannner you perceive that not only your name and fame is spread abroad, [Page 101] but your generation also grow for­midable. And this all to the glory of your relations, and joy of your dear­ly Beloved.

THE SIXTH PLEASURE.
Care is tàking for the Child and Child­bed linnen; and to provide a Mid­wise and Nurse.

IN good truth it is very pleasant to see how the good womans Apron from day to day, how longer the more it rises; now all the World may plainly see you have behaved your self like a man, and every one acknowledge that you are both good for the sport. Verily this is a great pleasure! And it increases abundantly, when your wife comes to be so near her reckoning, that she feels her self quick, and begins to provide and take care for the Childs and Child-bed linnen. Then you need not fear the turning of the tide, or that a mischance [Page]

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[Page] [Page 103] will happen; wherewith all people, seeing no other issue, laugh and scoff unmeasurably; and think that the Midwife hath been greased in the fist, (as it oftentimes happens) because she should say, that it was a full created child, and no collection of ill hu­mors, or a wind-egg.

And the greatest joy is, that you have now so hoisted your top-sail, that your wife cannot any more call you a Dry-boots, or a John Cannot; which were for you such disrespect­full names, and yet for quietness sake you vere forced to smother them in your breast, because you could have no witnesse for your vindication.

You are now so far exalted, that you will very speedily be saluted with the name of; Dad & Pappa which is as pleasing and acceptable for you now, as the name of Bridegroom was before.

O how happy you are! & what plea­sures doth the married estate provide for you! how glad must your wife be [Page 104] now! how strictly she reckons the months, nay the very weeks and days! O what an unexpressible love hath she for you now! and with what im­braces and kisses she entertains you, because you have furnish'd her shop so well? Now you may perceive that the procreating of children, makes the band of wedlock much stronger, and increaseth the affections.

Now were it well time, that by death either of the good woman or the Child, that you did, by a will, seek the mortification of the disadvan­tagious Contract of marriage; and by that means get all there is to your self, in place of going back to her friends and relations; But, alas, she hath so much in her head at present, that there is no speaking to her about it, without bing a great trouble to her: besides her sences cannot now bear it therefore you must let it alone till another time.

Do you your self but observe, & you'l [Page 105] quickly see that a lying-in requireth so much trimming, that she hath really care enough upon her! the Child-bed linnen alone, is a thing that would make ones head full of dizziness, it consists of so many sorts of knick-knacks; I will not so much as name all the other jinkombobs that are de­pendances to it. Therefore, ought you to be so compassionate with her, as not to speak to her about any other thing; for all her mind and sences are so imploied upon that subject, that she can think upon nothing else but her down-lying. Hear but deliberately to all her lying-in, and of what be­longs to it. Tis no wonder neither for there is not one of her acquain­tance comes to her, either woman or maid, but they presently ask her, Well, Mistris, when do you reckon? And that is a Text then, so full of matter that there is oftentimes three or four hours preacht upon it, before any of the Auditors be weary, [Page 106] O that all Ministers were so happy, as to have alwaies such earnest and serious hearers. In the mean while there is no body happier than the maids, for they are then free from being the Town-talk; for at other times, the first word is, How do you like your maid? which is another Text that the women generally preach out of, and make longest sermons in.

But methinks, I should happen to fall here from the Mistris upon the Maid.

To go forward then. See how se­rious your dearest is, with Jane the Semstress, contriving how much lin­nen she must buy to make all her Child-bed linnen as it ought to be! how diligently she measures the Beds, Bellibands, Navel clouts, shirts, and all other trincom, trancoms! and she keeps as exact an account of the ells, half ells, quarters, and lesser mea­sures, as if she had gone seven years to school to learn casting of an account.

[Page 107] Let this measuring and reckoning be pleasant to you, because the charge thereof will fall costly enough for you. Tomorrow she goes to market, to buy two or three pieces of linnen, one whereof must be very fine, and the other a little courser. And you need not take any notice what quan­tity of fine small Laces she hath oc­casion for, by reason it might per­haps overcloud this sixth pleasure of marriage, which you now possess.

Why should you not be merry? you have now above all things a Wife to your mind; who whatsoever she imagines, desires or doth, it is al­waies accompanied with wishes. O, saies she, how glad shall I be, when all things is bought that there ought to be for the making of my Child-bed linnen. And no sooner is it bought, but then she wishes that it were ma [...]e.

But this requires some time: and then you'l have reason to rejoice; for [Page 108] it is commonly the usual custom of the semstresses to let you go and run after them, and fop you off with lies and sto­ries, till the time be so nigh at hand, that it will admit no longer delay.

Yet before you see that your wife hath accomplisht this desire, you'l find her very much troubled at two se­veral causes, which will make you glad when she hath once obtained them. For these are things of impor­tance, to wit, the making choice of a Midwife and a Nurse, because upon one depends the health and preserva­tion of the life of the Woman; and on the other that of the Child.

Let it no waies molest or trouble you, but rather be pleasing and accep­table, if she be continually chattering at you, and desiring your advice and councell, who she shall make choice of or not; hereby you may observe, that you have a very carefull wife; and if you listen a little more narrowly, you will hear what a special care she [Page 109] hath for all things; then she will every day be relating to you that amongst the number of Midwives which have been recommendad to her, there is not one that pleases her; for one is too young and unexperienced, ano­ther is too old and doting; a third is too big handed; a fourth hath too much talk; and the fifth drinks too much wine. To be short there is so many deficiencies in everly one of them, that the good woman hath need of a learned Counsellors advice to help her to chuse the best.

And the like trouble hath she also concerning the taking of a Nurse having already spent a above months time in examining among her kindred and relations, and other good acquain­tance, how such and such nurses have behaved themselves; & she is informed that there are few to be found but have certainly some faults or other, and somtimes very great ones, for one is too sluttish, another saunters too [Page 110] a third too lazy; another too dainty: and then again, one eats too much, and another drinks to much; one keeps company to much with the maid, and another in like manner with the good man: And such a one or such a one are the best, but they were not very handy about the hearth, to make ready some liquorish dainty things for the good woman, which is a matter of no small weight.

Behold! hath she not very great cause to be troubled: and thereout you may very well also observe how happy you are, seeing you have got­ten a wife that night and day is busie and taking care of all these concerns and other affairs. Yes verily, although her big-belly be very cumbersom to her, yet she must be abroad, every day from morning till evening, to take care and provide all these impor­tant things, that nothing may be wan­ting. Well what a carefull wife you have! how mightily she is concerned [Page 111] for this above all other things what­soever!

And scarcely hath the good woman gotten these two main instruments; but she finds her self still involved in so much other business, that she hardly can tell how to do or turn her self in it; for now there wants a Groa­ning stool, a Screen, and a Cradle­with what belongs to it; and heaven knows what more, which have been so long neglected with the care that was taking to get a Midwife and a Nurse. Then again there wants new Hangings, a Down-bed a Christening­cloath, silver candle sticks, a Caudle­cap, &c. that of necessity must be bought & used at the lying-in, & Gos­sips feast; so that the good man need not fear that his mony will grow moul­dy for want of being turned too & again.

Oh were your dear wife so happy that she had once made an end of all these ponderous affairs, then all would be well: For then she could [Page 112] begin to give order for the making clean the house from top to bottom; and for the pressing of some curtains, Vallians and Hangings; the rubbing of Stools, Chairs and Cupboard; the scouring of the Warming-pan and Chamber-pot: And 'tis no wonder, for when the good woman lies in, then come so many busie bodies that with their glouring eyes are peeping into every hole and corner.

These things do so excessively trouble her brain; that she can hardly the whole day think upon any thing else, yea goes so near her that it ostentimes totally bereaves her of her nights rest insomuch that she is fain to ly very long a bed in the morning. And if by night she happen but only to think oft Boobincjo, she hath imme­diately such an alteration in her very intrals, that she feels here or there some or other deficiency; which comes so vehement upon her that the poor husband, though it be never so [Page 113] cold, must out of bed to fetch some Cinnamon and Annis-seed water, or good sack; or else some other such sort of those liquorish ingredients and then these are the principal keys of Musick that the whole night through are sung and plaid upon. O how hap­py is the good man, that he hath, from time to time, in her child-bea­ring, learned all these things with so much patience, which makes him now that he can the better bear with all these finical humours;

But for this again, ô compassionate Ninny-hammer, you shall have not only great commendations for your patience; but the pleasure also that some of your nearest relations will come and kiss your hands, and with­all tell you how happy you are that y'are almost arrived at that noble de­gree of being intituled Father. And then, with great respect & reverence, they desire to receive the honour some of being your first-born childs [Page 114] fathers, and others to be God-mo­thers: Neither will they then be be­hind hand in presenting the Child with several liberal gifts, as an acknow­ledgement of the honour they re­ceive, above others, in being favoured with your Gossipship.

Well who would not, for so much honour and respect, but now and then suffer the trouble of his wives quamish stomack with some charges to't? And more then that, you have now the best opportunity in the World, to go with your new chosen Gossips, (as you did before with your Birde­men) & chuse & taste out some of the most delicious Wine, for you must be sure to store your Cellar well, be­cause then both the Bridemen and Bride-maids will certainly come to eat some of the long-look'd for Caudle; besides the great number of friends that will come then also to give you a visit, and with all respect wish you much joy: I will not so much as think [Page 115] any thing of those that will come also to the Christning and Gossips Feast.

Be joyfull with this, till such time as the t'other Pleasure begins to appear,

THE SEVENTH PLEASURE.
The Woman falls in Labour.

BEhold, young couple, hi­therto a considerable deal of time is spent and passed over, with the aforesaid Mirth and Pleasures; do not you now perceive what a vast difference is be­tween the married or unmarried e­state? You have, by provision, made your self Master of these six Pleasures; nay oftentimes before you have got­ten the longd-for joy of the fourth Pleasure, appears that of the seventh very unexpectedly; for the good wo­man begins to look so sour, grum­ble, grunt and groan, that it seems as if she would go into the Garden and fetch a Babe out of the Parsley­bed.

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[Page 117] But Uds-lid this is a great-surprizal; for a little while ago she said that she was but seventh months gone of her reckoning. How then? should she have jested upon it? or has the good woman lost her book, and so made a false account? Yet this being the first time of her reckoning, ought the more favourably to be passed by as long as the Trade goes forwards.

There's now no small alarm in the Watch. Who is there that is but near or by the hand that is not set a work! Oh, was Dorothy the Semstress, and Jane the fuandress now here, what a helping hand we might have of them! Where are now the two Chair-wo­men also, they were commonly every day about the house, and now we stand in such terrible need of them, they are not to be found? Herewith must the poor Drone, very unex­pectedly, get out of bed, almost stark naked, having hardly time to put on his shoes and stockins; for the labour [Page 118] comes so pressing upon her, that it is nothing but, hast, hast, hast, fetch the Midwife with all possible speed, and alas, there is so many several occa­sions for help, that she cannot miss her maid the twinkling of an eye; neither dare she trust it to the Maids fetching, for fear she should not find the Midwives house; and she hath not shewed it her, because she made her reckoning that she had yet two months more to go.

Therefore without denial away the good man himself must to fetch the Midwife; for who knows whether or no she would come so quick if the maid went; nay it is a question also, being so late in the night, whether she would come along with the maid alone, because she dwells in a very so­litary corner clearly at the t'other end of the City: (for after a ripe delibera­tion of the good woman, the lot fell so that she made choice of this grave and experienced Midwife.)

[Page 119] Away runs the poor man without stop or stay, as if he were running for a wager of some great concern. And though it be never so cold, the sweat trickles down by the hair of his head, for fear he should not find the Mid­wife at home; or that perhaps she might be fetcht out to some other place, from whence she could not come. And if it should happen so, we are all undone, for the good woman must have this Midwife, or else she dies; neither can or dare she condes­cend to take any of the other, for the reasons afore mentioned.

But what remedy? if there must come another, then she will so alter, vex, and fret her self at it, that all the provocations of pains in labour, turns against her stomack, and there is no hopes further for that time.

But whilest you are running, and consider in this manner hope the best; rather think with your self, what great joy is approaching unto you, if your [Page 120] wife, thus soon, come to be safely de­livered of a hopefull Son or Daugh­ter: In the first place, you will be freed from all that trouble of rising in the night, and from the heaving of the grumbling and mumbling of your wife; two months sooner then you your self did expect you should have been.

Be not discomforted although she doth thus unexpectedly force you out of bed, before you have hardly slept an hour, for you see there's great occasion for't; and now is the time to show that you truly love your wife. This first time will make it more accustomary, the first is also com­monly the worst. And if you be so fortunate that at the very first you hap­pen to meet with this prudent and grave Matron Midwife, & do bring her to your longing-for dearly be­loved Wife; yet nevertheless you may assure your self, that before you can arrive to have the full scope and [Page 121] heighth of this Pleasure, you'l find something more to do: For the Mid­wife is not able alone to govern and take care of all things that must be fetcht, brought and carried to and again; therefore of necessity the friends must be fetcht with all the speed imaginable, viz. Sisters, wives, Aunts, Cousins, and several fami­liar good acquaintances must have notice of it, and be defraied to come to her quickly, quickly, without any delay; and if you do not invite them very ceremonially every one ac­cording to their degrees and quali­ties, it is taken to be no small affront.

It hath hapned more then a hun­dred times that the Sister afterwards would not come to the Christning Feast; because, by chance, she heard, that the Brothers wife had notice given her of the Child-bearing before her self; little considering how few people the young people had in the night to assist them; or that [Page 122] the confusion and unexperiencedness was the occasion that they did not think of such a method or order. Nay oftentimes is this sort of jealousie ari­sen between the Aunt and Cousin; whereby may most certainly obser­ved the intelligibility of the most prudent female sex.

'Tis true this running seems both troublesom and tiresom but little doth the good man know that he is now first come into that noble School & herein his patience shall be effec­tually exercised or that this is but the first year of trying the same! O how happy are they that are well instructed in it.

Do but see how impatient the good expecting Father is. What is there not yet wanting, before he hath his lesson perfect! Behold the poor Drone, how he moves too & fro! see what a loss and tostication he is in! he tramples his hat under his feet, pulls the hair off head, not knowing [Page 123] what he would do, or which way to help his dear Wife; and the Friends that were sent for do not come so quick as he expected, because the most part of them must first trick and prick themselves up before that they dare come; the one fearing the pier­cing view of another, though they be all near relations and friends.

Here he stands trembling, not knowing which way to turn himself. Womens assistance is at this present most requisite, and a good Stierman at Stern, or the ship may rum upon a sand. She runs first backwards then forwards; seeks here then there. And although he hath the keys of all the Chests, and Trunks, his head runs so much a Wool gathering, that, let him do what he will, he can find no sort of those things he most stands in need of.

Alas all things is thus out of order, by reason the good woman did not think to come so soon in Childbed, [Page 124] Oh what manner of Jinkinbobs are not here wanting that are most use­full at this occasion; and the Mid­wife cries and bawls for them that she's hoarse again! here's both the groaning stool and the screen yet to be made: And Mistris Perfect hath them both, but they are lent out.

Yonder Peg the maid runs her anckle out of joint, and her self out of breath, to desire to borrow them of Mistris Buy-all. And she's hardly got­ten out of dores, before they per­ceive that the warming pan is yet to be bought; and that that's worst of all, is, that all the Child-bed linnen is not yet starch'd or iron'd; often­times it happens that it is yet upon the the Bankside at bleach. What a mise­rable condition is this!

Here the good man is at no small quandary, with all the women, oh were this the greatest disappointment for him! but presently he sees all the womens countenances looking very dole-fully and mournfully at each [Page 125] other, one beginning to pray; another to cry in; there comes a great alera­tion in the pange and pains of her La­bour; nay they are sodesperate, that the fear is, either the mother or the child, or perhaps both must go to pot. For all whatsoever the Doctor hath prescribed, or that hath been fetcht from the Apothecaries; nay the very girdle of Saint Francis can work here no miracle.

Uds bud, this is but a sad spectacle. Oh, says Peg the maid, doth this come by marrying? I'l never venture it as long as I live. I do beleeve that it is very pleasurable to ly with a Gen­tleman, but the Child-bearing hath no delight at all in it. Oh I am affraid, if there come not a sudden change, that my good Mistris will not be able to un­dergo it. Oh sweet pretty blossom as she is.

'Tis most true, that here wants crums of comfort both for the hus­band and the wife; yea for the Mid­wife and all the rest of the Women be­side; [Page 126] for they all cry that the tears run streaming down their cheeks; and neither their Cinamon-water, nor burnt wine, can any waies refresh or strengthen her. Uds lid: if there come no other tiding the sweetness of this pleasure will prove but bitter to them.

But hark a little! there comes something of a tiding, that brings us fi­ve pounds worth of courage with it. Two or thee more such, would make every one of our hearts a hundred pound lighter, and the great Caudle Skellet would begin to quake and tremble.

Pray have a little patience, tarry, and in the twinkling of an eye you shall be presented with a Child, and saluted with the title of Father.

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[Page 127]THE EIGHTH PLEASURE.
The Womans brought to bed.

HA boys! after all the toiling, he happy hour is at last ar­rived, that the good Wo­man, finally is delivered & brought to bed: well this is a mirth and pleasure that far surpassesh all the other; for the good man is, by a whole estate, richer then he was before.

Who can imagine or comprehend the jollity of this new Father? O he is so overjoyed that it is inexpressible: Doll and Peg must out immediately to give notice of it to all the friends and acquaintance; thing to himself that every body else will be as jocund and merry at it as he is. Do but see how busie he is! behold with what [Page 128] earnestness he runs up and down the house to give order that the great Caudle Skillet may be in a readiness!

What a pleasure is it for him that he sees Mistris Do-all attending the Midwife, and giving her all manner of warmed beds and other Clouts, the number and names where of are without end; and that Mistris Swift­hand & Mistris Fair arse are tumbling­all things to psie-turvy for sooth to seek and prepare in a readiness all those things that are most necessary for the Child; but little doth he think that they do it more to be peeping into every hole and corner, and to have a full view of all the Child-bed lin­nen, then out of needfull assistance? And wo be to the Child bed woman, if they do but find any where a Clout, Napkin or Towel, that by chance hath either a hole or a rent in it: for one or another of them will with grinning and laughnig thrust her fin­ger through it, and then shew it to [Page 129] the rest. taking also the first oppor­tunity she can lay hold of, when they are a little at liberty, to make a whole tittle tattle about it, and very much admireth the carelesness and negli­gence of the Child-bed woman; as if she were a greater wast-all, and worse house-wife than any of them else when to the contrary, if you should by accident come into any of their Garrets, when the linnen is just come home from washing you would oftentimes find it in such a con­dition, that you might very well imagine your self to be in Westminster Hall where the Colours that are Tro­phics of honour are hung up, one full of holes, another tatter'd & torn, and a third full of mildew.

Yet notwithstanding all this peep­ing and snuffling in to every nook and corner, they finally get the Child swathled: And then to the great joy of the Father, it must be presented him in state by the Midwife, with [Page 130] this golden expression, a Proverb not above two hundred years old, Father, see there is your Child, God give you much joy with it, or take it speedily into his bliss.

Uds bud how doth this tickle him! what a new mirth and pleasure is this again! see him now stand there and look like a Monky with a Cat in his arms. O delicate what a pretty condi­tion he's now in!

Well Midwife look to't, for this joy hath taken such a tyrannical pos­session of his heart, that doubt not but immediately there will be a good present for you, when he gives it you back again. 'Tis no wonder, for if it be a Son, he is at least a thousand pound richer then he was before: though hem ay look long enough be­fore he'l find a Bankers Bond in his Chest for the [...]um.

Now whilest the Child is swadled and drest up, all the other trinkum trankums are laid aside; and the Ta­ble [Page 131] is spread neatly to entertain the friends, who not alone for novelties sake, but also out of a sweet tooth'd liquorish appetite, long to see what is prepared for them. And I beleeve that although the Kings Cook had drest it, get there will be one or ano­ther of them that will be discommen­ding something, and brag that she could have made it much delicater, if there be then any one that seems not fully to beleeve her, immediately she cites two or three Ladies for her witnesses, who have given her the greatest praise and commendations for her dressing of such dishes above all others. And who can have better judgement then they? This is then a discourse for at least three hours, for they are all of them so well verst in the Kitchin affairs, that its hard for one to get a turn to speak before the other.

But this is an extraordinary Plea­sure for this new Father to hear out of [Page 132] all their prittle pratlings how sweet­ly they will commend the Quill that hath received all the Colchester Oisters, Cox-combs, Sweetbreads, Lam-stones, and many other such like things, for they have found by experience that such sort of ingre­dients occasion very much the kind­ness of men to their wives. Yes, yes, saies Mrs. Luxury it is very good for my husband, and not amiss for any pallate neither, and I'm sure the bet­ter I feed my Pig, the better it is for me in the soucing out. And this dis­course then is held up with such an earnestness, and continues so long, that the Child-bed woman almost, gets an Ague with it, or at the least falls from one swooning into another, whilest there is not so much as any one that thinks upon her.

Happy is the good man, if he can but act the part of a Ninny, and hath busied himself for the most part in the Kitchin; then he may be now and [Page 133] then admitted to cast in his verdict; otherwise, let them talk as long as they will, he is forced in great mise­ry to afford them audience. But it is much better for him, if, according as the occasion gives opportunity, there be now and then spoken some­thing concerning the Child-bed wo­man, or about the shaking of the sheets, which is seldom forgotten; be­cause he is now already so far advanced in the Cony-craft of that School, that he is gotten up to the Water Bucket.

In the mean while Peg runs too and again, almost like one out of her sences, to hunt for the Nurse, who dwels in a little street upon a back-Chamber, or in an Ally, or some other by-place; and she is just now no where else to be found but at t'o­ther end of the City, there keeping another Gentle woman in Child-bed.

Here is now again other fish to fry, for one will not be without her, and t'other must needs have her, each [Page 134] pretending to have an equal right to her. And the Nurse, finding that each of them so much desires her, thinks no small matter of her self, but that she is as wise as many a Ladies woman or Salomons Cat, and that her fellow is hardly to be found. But before some few daies are past, there's a great trial to be made of the Nurses experience and understanding; for, let them do what they will or can, the Child will not suck; yea, and what's worse, it hath gotten a lamentable Thrush. Alas a day what bad work is here again, the Nurse is so quamish stomockt that she cannot suck her Mistres, therefore care must be taken to find out some body or other that will come and suck the young womans breasts for twelve pence a time; or else her breasts will grow hard with lumps and fester for want of being drawn. Or else also with the sucking she gets in the tip­ples.

[Page 135] Now is the right time to fetch the Apothecary to make ready plaisters, and bring Fennel-water to raise the milk, that the lumps may be driven away; and most espelially that the cloves in the tipples may be cured. Help now or never good M. Doctor, for if this continue much longer, the young woman perhaps gets an Ague that may then cost her her life.

Verily, in this state and condition of the woman is also some pleasure to be found, for you may keep your wife now very cheap; she is not now so liquorish and sweet-tooth'd, as when she was with Child; which in deed is very good at all times, but most especially in thie pittifull time for there's now nothing fitter for her to eat then a little good broth, stew'd Prunes, Caudle, Water-gruel, roa­sted Apples, or new laid Egs.

But, now Father, your Pleasure will immediately be augmented, for it will not be long before you will [Page 136] have some or other Gentlewomen come to give you a visit, who will then also out of their Closets of understan­ding be very much assistant to you with their advice and counsel for there are very few of them that are not deeply experienced in Sir Thomas Browns Midwivery, and if any thing do happen more then ordinary, they never want for remedies.

Now there is Doctor Needhams wife, who by her ownexperimen­ting, hath knowledge of several other things: But upon such an occasion as this, there is nothing better then that the child must be glister'd; and for the lumps you must indevour through a continual chafing to get them out of the young womans breasts. But Mistris Rattle-pate re­lates, how miserably, she was trou­bled with an humour in her breast, when she lay in; but that she had alwaies cured her self of it, by only taking a Sandwich Carrot, and scraping it hol­low [Page 137] in the inside, and then put like a hat upon the tipple, this drew out all ill humour, without any pain, or the least fear of danger.

Yes truly, saith Mrs Talk-enough, I do indeed forsooth beleeve that that is very good, but here are very sore nipples, and they begin to be chop'd; and there must be a special care taken for that; therefore it will not be amiss to strengthen the nipples with a lit­tle Aqua vitae, and then wash them with some Rosewater that hath ker­nels of Limons steep'd in it, There' nothing like it, or better, I have lain in of thirteen children, but ne­ver tried any thing that did me so much good, or gave me half the ease. Pray, dear Mistris, be sure to make ufe of that, you will never repent it.

But Mistris Know-all saith, that she hath made use of this also, and found some ease by it; and that she hath tried above an hundred other [Page 138] things, that were approved to be good; yet of all things never found nothing under the Sun that was more noble then Salvator Winter's Salve, for that cures immediately: And you can have nothing better.

Yet Mistris Stand to't, begins to relate wonderfull operations done with oyl of Myrrhe; and of the plai­sters that are made by the Gentlewo­man in Py-yard.

Now comes the sage Matron Ex­perience, saying that she hath learnt secret from a prudent Doctor that's worth its weight in Gold, nor can the vertue thereof be too much com­mended. And she hath already com­municated it unto several persons; but there are none that tried it who do not praise it to be incomparable: therefore she hath been very vigilant to note it down in S. John Pain, and Nic-Culpeppers Works; to the end that her posterity may not only make use of it, but participate it to others: [Page 139] This is, Lapis Calaminaris prepared, mingled with a small quantity of May­butter, and then temper them to ge­ther with the point of a knife upon an earthen plate, just as the Picture Drawers do their Colours upon their Pallet, which will bring it to be a de­licate salve; and is also very soft and supple for the chaps of the tipples; nay, though the child should suck it in, yet it doth it no harm; and it doth not alone cure them, but prevents the coming of any more.

Yes, saith Mistris Consent to all. and my advice is then to take a little horn, with a sheeps udder, & lay that upon the Tipples, for that defends them, and occasions their curing much better and sooner.

O what a pleasure it is to hear all the pretty considerations of so many prudent Doctresses! If Clement Ma­rot might but revive, I am sure he would find here as many Doctresses, as ever there were Doctors at Paris. [Page 140] But ô how happy will this fortunate new Father be, when he may but once see the back-sides of all these grave and nice Doctresses! By my truth, this may very well be registred for one of the most accomplished Pleasures.

But yet all this doth not help the young woman. Perhaps all these re­medies may be good, saith the Grand-Mother but they are not for our turns; for alas a day, the very smell of salve makes her fall into a swoon; neither can she suffer the least motion of suc­king, for the very pain bereaves her of her sences. What shall we do then? to keep a Wet-Nurse is both very da­mageable, and cruel chargeable; for Wet-Nurses are generally very lazy and liquorish, and they are ever chat­ting and chawing something or other with the Maids; and in their manner they baptize it, with saying it is very necessary & wholesom for the Child. And then again, to put the Child out to Nurse, hath also several considera­tions; [Page 141] first it estrangeth much from you, and who knows how ill they may keep it. Therefore it is best to keep it at home, and indeavour the bringing of it up with the Spoon, feeding it often with some pure and cordial diets fit for the appetite, and now and then giving it the sucking bottle.

But what remedy now? this is all to no purpose: For though the Grand­mother, Nurse, and Ant do what they can, yet all their labour's lost. And the Child is so froward and peevish, that the Nurse is ready to run away from it; nay, though she dandle and play with it alwaies till past mid­night, it is but washing the Black a­more; in so much that a Wet-Nurse must be sought for, or away goes the Child to Limbo. For this again is required good advice, and the chusing of a good one hath its consideration: But the tender heartedness and kind love that the Mother hath for her Child can no way suffer this, she will [Page 142] rather suck it her self though the pain be never so great. Yet having tried it again a second time, the pain is so vehement that it is impossible to withstand it; therefore the new Fa­ther cannot be at quiet till there be a Wet-Nurse found and brought to them. For it goes to the very heart of both Father and Mother to put the Child out to Nurse.

And do but see after much seeking and diligent inquiring, the new made Grandmother, hath at last found one, who is a very neat cleanly and mighty modest woman, her husband went a little while ago to the East-Indies, & her child died lately.

This no small joy but an extraor­dinary Pleasure, both for the new Father, and Child-bed woman. Oh now their hearts are at rest. And now all things will go well; for as the Wet-Nurse takes care of the Child; the dry Nurse doth of the Mother, & all this pleases the good Father ve­ry well.

[Page 143] Now Child-bed-woman your time is come to make much of your self, that you may recover strength. Now you wont be troubled with the pains of sucking, or disturbed of your natural rest: now you must let the Wet-Nurse take care for every thing, and look after or meddle with no­thing your self. Now you must sleep quietly, eat heartily, and groan lustily. And though you be very well and hearty, yet you must seem to be weak and quamish stomackt; for first or last the month of lying-in must be kept full out. Do but think now by your self what you have a mind either to eat, or drink; the first and worst daies are with the tossing and tur­moiling passed by; neither can you recover any strength with eating of Water-gruel, sugar sops, rosted Ap­ples, and new laid Egs; you are not only weary of them, but it is too weak a diet for you. The nine daies are almost past, and now you must [Page 144] have a more strengthunig diet; to wit, a dish of fine white Pearch, a roasted Pullet, half a dozen of young Pigeons, some Wigeons or Teal, some Lams-stones, Sweet-breads, a piece of roast Veal, and a delicate young Turky, &c. And whilest you are eating, you must be sure to drink two or three glasses of the best Rhenish wine, very well sweetned with the finest loaf sugar, you must also be very carefull of drinking any French wine, for that will too much inflame you.

O new Father, what a Pleasure must all these things be for you; and especially, because now you begin at the Bed side to eat and drink again with your Child-bed wife; and you begin also to perceive that if all things advance as they hitherto have done, you may then again in few daies make fresh assaults of hugging and em­bracing her.

This is that jolly month or six [Page 145] weeks that all woman talk so pleasant­ly of; because it learns them alwaies such a curious remembrance. And really it is almost impossible that the husband at these rates can grow lean with it; because he as well as his wife sits to be cram'd up too: And he can now with his dearest daily contrive and practice what the Nurse shall make ready, that his Child bed wife may eat with a better appetite, and recover new strength again. I would therefore advise the carefull Nurse as a friend, that she should be sure to provide her self with the Com­pleat Cook, that she might be the more ready to help the Child-bed woman to think upon what she hath a mind to have made ready, for her brains are but very weak yet; so that she cannot so quickly and easily re­member at first what is pleasantest and wholesomest to be eaten.

O thrice happy new Father that have gotten such a prudent diligent [Page 146] and carefull Nurse for your Child­bed wife! what great Pleasure is this! And behold, by this delicate eating and drinking, your Dearest begins from day to day to grow stronger and stronger; insomuch that she begins to throw the Pillow at you, to spur you up to be desirous of coming to bed to her: Yea, she promiseth you, that before she is out of Child-bed, she will make you possessor of another principal and main Pleasure.

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[Page 147]THE NINTH PLEASURE.
Of the Gossips Feast.

NOw, ô new Father, you have had the possession of eight pleasures, which un­doubtedly have tickled you to some purpose.

But now there is a new one ap­proaching, that will be as full of so many joyfull delights and wishings of prosperity, as ever the first and most famous hath been; for it seems as if your Child-bed wife begins to be a weary of this lazy liquorish life, and to leave off her grunting and groaning; because she now longs to be gadding up and down the street, or standig at the dore with her Babe in her arms.

But before this can be done, you [Page 148] know that there ought to be a Gos­sips Feast kept, To this end the Nurse must be sent abroad; and a serious Counsel held, as if the Par­liament of women were assembled, to consult who shall be invited, and who not. 's Wounds, what a list of re­lations and strange acquaintance are here sum'd up in a company together, to be invited to the Gossipping Feast. 'Tis impossible, the Nurse can e­ver do this all in one day; because she would not willingly miss any of them, out of the earnest hopes she hath of the Presents she expects. And then also she must give an account to every one of them that are invited of the state and condition of the Child-bed woman and her Child. I wonder that there is no body that sollicites to have the Office of an Inviter to all such sort of Gossippings, but the women understand these affairs and the ordering of such sort of invita­tions much better then any one [Page 149] else, therefore 'tis not necessary.

O, new Father, what a sweet De­light and Pleasure you must needs have in reviewing this great List of your Gossips! What multiplicities of wishes of joy and prosperity have you to expect! But if I were to be your Counsellor, I assure you I would order the Nurse to desire Doctor Toss-bowl, my Lord Drink first and then the other Gentlemen, to wit, Master Cleardrinker, Dryliver, Spill­not, Sup-up, Seldom-sober, and Shift-gut, to fetch home their Wives in good time from the Gossipping; because you have other mens Wives, who are your near relations, that you must entertain longer; and they otherwise will never think of rising or going home though it were mid­night: And by this means you will have a fit opportunity, with a full Bowl and a Pipe, to wash away that rammish sent of a Child-bed out of your brains; and also after many [Page 150] hopes, once arrive to the height of receiving your full delight and plea­sure. And then you may e'en clap it all together upon the account of a Lying-in.

Now Nurse, here you have work by whole hand-fulls: for you shall no sooner have made an end of your other errands, but immediately there's so much tricking and pricking of all things up in neat order against the coming of the sharp-sighted guests; that it's a terror to think on't. Their eys will fly into every nook and cor­ner; nay the very house of Office must be extraordinary neat and clean; for Mistris Foul-arse, Gossip Order­all, and Goody Dirty-buttocks, will be peeping into every crevise and cranny: And because they will do it forsooth, according to their fashion, they make a shew as if they must go to the necessary Chamber, with a Letter to Gravesend, only to take an inspection whether it be as [Page 151] cleanly there as it is upon the Gos­sipping Chamber where all the Guests are. And 'tis a wonder if they do not look into the Seat, to see whether there be no Spyders webs spun in it; or whether the Goldfinders Merchan­dize be of a good colour, equal-size and thickness.

But come let's pass all this by: for in the middle of these incumbrances, the time will not only fly away; but we shall, at the hour appointed, be surprized by our Guests. Uds life, how busie the Wet and Dry-Nurses are with dressing the Babe neatly Now Father, look once upon yout Child! O pretty thing! O sweet­fac'd dainty darling! 'tis Fathers own picture! Well what would not one undergo to be the Mother of so fine an Angel! And who can or dare doubt any thing of it, for the Mother loves it, and the Father beleeves it, nay and all the friends that come tumbling in one upon another to day, [Page 152] do confirm it: For behold, every one looks earnestly at the Babe; and doth not a little commend his pret­tiness. One saith it is as like the Fa­ther (alias Daddy) as one drop of Wa­ter is like another. Another, that the upper part of the face, forehead, eyes and nose incline very much to be like the mother; but down-wards it is every bit the Father. And who forsooth should not beleeve it, if it be a son. Every one is in an admiration. O me, what a pretty sweet Infant! Nurse, you have drest it up most curiously! And truly there's, no cost spar'd for the having very rich laces.

Thus they ly and tamper upon this first string, till the Child-bed woman begins to enter upon the relating what great pain in travell she had to fetch this Child out of the Parsly-bed, what a difference there was between her, and others of her acquaintance, &c. Thereout every one hath so much [Page 153] matter, as would make a longwin­ded sermon; and the conclusion ge­nerally is the relating how and when the good man crept to bed to her again; and how such a one had been a fortnight with Child, before she went to receive her churching. Where upon another comes with a full­mouth'd confession, that her husband was not half so hot in the cod­piece.

And a third again relates how her husband tarried above a fortnight from home, after that she was out of Child-bed; but comming then home, he did so claw her off and tickle her fan­cy for her that very precisely upon the nine months end, she was brought to bed of two children.

Do but tarry a little yet, till the Gossipping-bowl hath gone once or twice more about with old Hock; then you'l hear these Parrots tell you other sorts of tales.

In the mean while, do but see the [Page 154] poor Nicholas None-eys how he rejoyces, that his wife is so reaso­nable strong again; and that she is so neatly trickt up sitting in state in the best furnished room, by the bed­side! O what a pleasure this is! O how he treats all the women with delicate Marget Ale, and Sack and Sugar! [unless he begin to bethink himself, and for respects sake or frugality, sets some bottles aside; because he perceives it to be nothing else but a vast expence and womens Apish tricks] How busie he is in car­ving for them of his Roast-beef, Capons, Turkey-py, Neats-tongue, or some other savoury bit to make their mouths relish their liquor the better; and then stand fast Bowls and glasses for they resolve not to flinch from it? And indeed why should he not? for he is now a whole estate richer then he was before; and what need he care for it then.

Well behold here! Now the wo­mens [Page 155] mouths are a begining to be first a little warm; and none of them all can be silent, though they should speak of their own Commodities.

O how happy would you be, O Goodman Cully, if you had but as many ears as Argus had eys, that you might hear every where, whilest you are carving and serving of them, what pretty sweet stories and discourses, these sorts of Parrats will be talking of? For Mistris Sharp-set relates, what a pleasure she oft times received in it, to keep School-time with her husband at noons, as soon as they had feasted their carkasses well: but that conning of her lesson had caused her severall times to make a journy to the Parsly-bed.

Mistris Touch and Take relateth, how that being once at her Neeces at a Gossipping, where she and her husband were stayed and treated something more then ordinary; as they were going home they were sud­denly [Page 156] surprised with an amorous storm; so that coming home, they would not tarry to undress themselves but tumbling down upon the flore, they very furiously fell to 't, hand over head; where she received such a bene­diction, that that very day nine months, she lay-in Child-bed of a young Betty; that was so like the child of the aforenamed Mistris Touch and take, as ever any one thing in the world can be like another. And she was more prosperous and healthy at this lying-in, then ever she had been before, &c.

Where upon Mistris Currant be­gins to relate for a most true story, how that a certain Maid who selleth Wine and Beer-glasses at this very time, had her Viol so filled by a little pretty mean fellow of her acquain­tance; that about nine months after­wards, when it begun to be griping upon her, she went in person her self to the Town Midwife; where she im­mediately [Page 157] without further delay was delivered; and about an hour after­wards went home with the Child in her lap; where she both swath'd, and also wash'd out all the foul Linnen her self; nay, and the next day morning went her self with her child to have it Christned, and then she went and sat the whole day again, as formerly, at her Stall to sell glasses.

At this Mistris Sincere wonders ex­treamly; saying how strangely these things happen to one woman more then another. In our Parish there is a married woman brought to bed, but she was so miserably handled by the Midwife, that no tongue can express it. Insomuch that Ma­ster Peepin the Man Midwife, was fain to be fetcht, to assist with his Instrument; it was a very great wonder that the woman ever escaped it; which is most lamentable in­deed to be related; and too sad [Page 158] indeed to be placed by me among the Pleasures of Marriage.

Oh, saith Mistris What d'ye call'er, it is a very lamentable and sad condition, when things run so contrary that we must go a whole journy about to clear ones self of Py­corner; and resolve without much consideration, that a Chyrurgion must be sent for: And nevertheless, although it be very shameless, yet the necessity occasions and forces the doing of it: But when there is talk'd of such things, it makes me think a thousand times over of a certain pas­sage that hapned to one of my nearest friends and relations: When the good woman, being at the very end of her reckoning, begun to be grie­ved and pained very cruelly with the pangs and twangs of Childbearing, and it continued very long. What remedy soever they used, it helpt not, nor would go as they would have it: nay it continued three whole [Page 159] daies and nights; and then the wo­man begun to cry out, Oh I cannot be delivered, unless I see that cut off before my eyes, by which I did get it. Well I pray Mistris, (said Madam Scripture) what a horrible strange de­sire is this? Never did any Wife ask this of a Husband! Would you in such a manner destroy that which was created for good? there's no Law nor rule for that, neither can it be admit­ted. He hath done his duty, and it was your duty to be helpfull to him therein; but not that you should re­quest such mad and senceless things as those are.

But it was e'en as much as if Madam Scripture, had knockt at a deafmans dore, for she bawl'd a hundred times, Oh I neither can nor shall be delivered, unless I see that cut off with which I have gotten it.

Here was great need of good coun­sel: for what ever they said or did, she was like the Cucko, sung her old [Page 160] constant song; & her pains rather de­creased then increased as to the effect of a safe delivery; in somuch that there was a fear both Mother & Child would be lost. But to be short the business was very earnestly related to the hus­band, who was not very well pleased to hear a song sung of that tune; and indeed it was esteemed to be by the Doctor, Chyrurgion, Midwife, & all the friends rather a fit of frenzy & pure madness than any thing else. Not­withstanding, the love of the husband, and necessity of the wife, made them cogitate upon some subtle cheat in the case; that the husband using some mournfull actions, by wringing of his hands kissing and embracing her; should say to her; be of good comfort, my dearest; for since it is thy desire, behold, I will hazard my life to save thine. Presently three Doctors & four Chyrurgians were sent for; who did, in the presence & sight of his wife, bind him fast to a great arm-stoel; & he fei­gned to cry lamentably; and that most [Page 161] especially when he saw the Chyrur­gians terrible instruments pull'd out & laid in order about him: whilest they on the other side comforted him with many perswasive reasons, & saying that he doubted not, but through their diligence & care to make a good cure of it, but still acting & busie to do the operation, at which the woman look'd cruel sharp-sighted; and as they were fumbling about him, some blood was spilt; just at which moment this man gave a horrible shriek; & as it seemed then the operation was very dexte­rously finished. But one of the Chy­rurgians having gotten a Cows Teat, & made it bloody, did it with such an agility & quickness, the woman could no otherwise perceive but that her husband had lost his farthing candle. For the poor man lamented bitterly, & fell in a swoon; but the wound being curiously drest, they laid him in bed, & commanded all things to be very quiet, &c.

The man was hardly warm in his bed, before the woman begun to be in a bit­condition; [Page 162] and all things advanced so well every moment that in a very short time after she was sasely delive­red of a brave boy.

But the man kept his bed; and rejoiced heartily at his seeming gain; yet feigning himself very bad as be­fore; for fear that if the cheat were in the least manner perceived, it might be a hindrance to the health of his wife.

But when it had continued some few daies, the Doctors advised him, that he should get up; and walk about a little which he did, and coming into his wives Chamber, feigns himself very weak, &c. yet begun from day to day to grow better and stronger as well as his wife.

The woman having lain-in some time, and the husband being cured; he begain to creep to bed to her. And after the month was very little more then past, she having a huge mind to be doing, begins to put her hand to [Page 163] wards her husbands farthing candle to play with it. Where-upon the man pushes her hand away, and saith, Well how sweetheart, am I not mi­serable enough to be brought by you already into such a deplorable condi­tion, but you must needs grieve me yet more with your dallying.

And for that time she was fain to be contented therewith. But before many nights were past the Jill would be groping again; and because she was denied so before, begins to ask in this manner, well, sweetheart, prithee is it so totally taken away? Is there not so much as a stump left? Oh my dearest saith he, you know very well what I have suffered for your sake.

But at last nature overpow'ring him, it was impossible for him to tarry any longer out of Venus's Orchard: which pleased her so well, that im­bracing him in her arms, she whi­spers him quietly in the ear; saying, [Page 164] Oh sweet heart, the stump I vow is as good as the whole was.

Thus ended Mistres Whatd'ye callser' discourse: And the Nurse perceiving that through the length of the Story her mouth was grown dry in the telling, proffers her a bouncing glass of Sack and Sugar.

In the mean time, at the t'other end of the Chamber, Mistris Fairtail relates a pretty story how their Maid was very curiously stitcht up by their Tailor; and how she was every foot running thither, then to have a hole finely drawn that she had torn in her Petti-coat, another while to have her Bodice made a little wider, and then again to have her stockins soled. Which continued so long till at last she was brought to bed of a pair of young Bodice with a lace & tag to it.

It is no wonder, (saith, Mistres Paleface) that this should happen to a poor innocent servant Maid; there was my husbands first wives niece Mrs. [Page 165] Young rose that modest Virgin, she kept such a close conversation & daily communication with Master Scuré, that at last there appeared a little Cu­pid with little ears, and short hair.

Nay then (saith Mistris Look about) those two Sisters need not twit one another in the teeth with it; for the t'other kept such a sweet com­pliance and converse with the Spanish Fruiterer, yonder at the corner­house, where she did eat so many China Oranges, and other watrish fruits, that they caused her to get an extraordinary swelling under her stomack; which Doctor Stultus jud­ged to proceed from some obstruc­tions, wind, and other watrish hu­mours; but it did not continue so long before her Mother, beginning better to apprehend the nature of her dis­temper, sent her away to her Country­house at Hackney, where she was cu­red of her obstructions and watrish humours, by the arrival of a little [Page 166] Wag-about; at last returning home again very pale-fac'd for a tried Maid.

Mistris Lookabout was going to begin again; but they heard such rap­ping and knocking at the dore, that one of them said I beleeve there are our husbands; and indeed she guest very well. This augmented their mirth mightily. And especially of the Nurse; for now she was sure that, if the good Cully her Master treated his Gossips nobly and liberally, her pre­sents would be doubled. But Nurse do not cheat your self, for fear it might happen otherwise; I know once a merry boon Companion, who being at a Gossipping Feast, called the Nurse alone to him; and saies to her, Nurse, I'l swear you are very vigilant and take a great deal of pains, in serving both us and our wives with all things, and also filling of us full glasses and bowls: hark hither, my wife is a little covetous, and oft-times so narrow­soul'd that she doth not keep her cre­dit [Page 167] where she ought to do, so that I beleeve her gift will not be very great, and truly because you are such a good body, see there, that's for you, put it some where privately away; & there­with thrusts her an indifferent great brass Counter, wrapt up in a paper, into her hand. The Nurse certainly beleeving this to be at the least a Crown-piece, thanks him very de­murely, and puts it in her Pocket; ne­ver opening it till they were every one of them gone, but then she saw that she was basely cheated. But Nurse you are warned now by this, another time you may look better to't. Yet methinks I'd fill about lustily, it is the good man of the house his wine; and when the Wine begins to surge crown-high; the men are much more generous than before.

And verily methinks I have a mind to take my portion of it also; but yet not so as the Nurse did at my Neeces; who had toss'd up her bowls [Page 168] so bravely upon the good health of the Child-bed woman her Mistriss, that when she was going to swathe and feed the Child, instead of putting the spoon into the mouth, she thrust it under the chin, & sometimes against the breast; and then when she was about swathing of it; as it is common­ly the custom to lay a wollen blanket and linnen bed together, she wrapt the poor Infant with its little naked body only in the blanket alone.

O thrice happy young Father, who have hitherto so nobly treated and en­certained all your She-Gossips, and had the audience of all their curious relations! Now you will have the ho­nour also of entertaining their hus­bands your He-Gossips, who will not be backward in doing of you reason out of the greatest bowl you will set before them, and talk as freely of a Py-corner merchandize.

Who is there now that doth not praise, and commend your manfull [Page 169] deeds to the highest? Ha, ha, saith Master Laugh-wel, that's a Child! who ever saw a braver! there's not the fellow on't! O my dearest, I have such a delight in this Child, that if we were but a little alone together, I'd cast you such another as if it were of the same mould. Stay a little, stay a little, saith Master Fillup, it may be you would not run so strong a course. Yet I saw once two Souldiers who were Batchelors, that were sitting in an evening drinking in an Alehouse, and talking lustily of the Bobbinjo trade; whereupon one of them said; Cocks­bobs Jack if I had but a Wife, as well as another, I'd presently get her with Child of a brave boy. Ho, ho, saith the t'other, it is an easie thing to get a Wife if one seek it. If I would, I dare lay a wager on't, I would be the Bride­groom within the space of two hours. The other not beleeving him, they laid a wager between them for a pottle of Wine. Hereupon one of them [Page 170] went out of dores just upon the stri­king of the clock; & hardly was gone a streets length, before he met with a bonny bouncing girl, who was going of an errand for her Mistris, and he presently laies her on board. But she seemed to be very much offended, that an honest Maid going about her busi­ness in the evening, should be in this manner so encountred by a strange fellow, with a sword by his side. Veri­ly, Sweetheart, said he, you have a great deal of reason in all what you say; but you may certainly beleeve that it is an honest person who speaks to you, and only seeks an occasion to be acquainted with a virtuous good con­dition'd Maid. My wearing of a sword, is because I am a Souldier, and am very well known by many honest people. And truly, if you please to ad­mit me this favour, you shall see and find me to be an honest man, and none of those that go about to ly and de­ceive; any body; and indeed my inten­tion [Page 171] & desire is to marry, to that end seeking nothing but an honest Maid, and I doubt not but that I have at this time found one to my mind. And went forward with his chat in these sort of terms. But the Maid denied him, saying, that she had no mind at-all to a Souldier, because it was one of the poorest and miserablest sort of leveli­hoods; their pay being but very little, and they were seldom advanced, &c. He on the other side commending & approving a Souldiers life to be the merriest, resolutest, & absolute easiest of any that was under the Sun; because that neither hungrie care, nor finical pride did any waies take place by them, but that they, on the contrary were alwaies merry, never admitting sorrow into their thoughts. 'Tis true, said he, our pay is but small; but then again, all what the Country peo­ple have, is our own; for what we want our selves, we get from them: we never take care for to morrow, having [Page 172] alwaies something fresh, & every day new mirth. Riches, Sweetheart, doth not consist in multiplicity of Goods, but in content; & there's no one better satisfied then a Souldier, therefore you shall alwaies see an honest Souldier look plump and fat, just as I do: but Drunkards and Whoremasters fall away miserably, &c,

In short, the Maid begun a little to listen to him (and so much the more, because that very morning she had a falling out with her Mistris) and told him, she would take it into consi­deration, He answered her again, what a fidle stick, why should we spend time in thinking? we are equally matcht: a Souldier never thinks long upon any thing, but takes hold of all present opportunities, and it generally falls out well with him. But she draw­ing back a little, he saith, ah my dearest, you must take a quick resolu­tion. Behold there, yonder comes a Cloud driving towards the Moon: [Page 173] I'l give you so much time, till that be past by; therefore be pleased to resolve quick, for otherwise I must go & seek my fortune by another. For a Sol­dier neither woos nor threatens long.

Upon this she considered a little, but before the Cloud was past by the Moon, she gave him her consent; and he gave her his Tobacco-box for a pledgé of marriage; and desired some thing of her in like manner for a pledge; but she said she had nothing: howsoever he persisted so strongly, that in conclusion she gave him her Garter for a pledge of marriage. He was contented with it, and taking his leave, went unto his Comrades; and told them what had hapned to him, shewing them the Garter. Whereupon he that had laid the wager with him, askt, who it was, what her name was, and where she dwelt, &c. And being told by another, that it was a handsom, neat, and very well complexion'd [Page 174] Maid. By my troth, said he, I with I were to give four Cans of Wine that I could light upon such another. Well, see there, saith the first, if you will give four Cans of Wine, I will both give you the Garter & the Maid too into the bargain: It was done but by Moon-light; so that she'l hardly know whether it be me or another.

Hereupon the agreement was con­cluded, the two first Cans of Wine were spent, and the Garter was deli­vered to him, and every one charged to keep it secret.

This second Souldier goes to the Maid next day in the evening, at the hour and place where they had ap­pointed to meet. And there relating to her several passages that were pas­sed between them the day before, and shewing her the Garter, made her be­leeve that he was the person that had contracted with her the day before. To be short, the Maid leaves her ser­vice and marries him. And that which [Page 175] is most to be observed, is, that that which the first Souldier vaunted to have done, the second performed; for just nine months after they were mar­ried, she was brought to bed of a gal­lant young boy, and they lived very peaceably and quietly together.

Well, I'l vow, saith Master Cross­grain, that's a very notable relation; it is better a great deal that the busi­ness happen so, then like another, which is just contrary, that I shall make mention of to you.

Barebeard and Mally, who by a sudden accident, without much wooing, were gotten together, and their first Bane of matrimony was published; but falling out, they called one another all the names that they could reap together; nay it run so high, that they would discharge each other of their promises, and resolved to go to the Bishop & crave that they might have liberty to forbid the Banes themselves, which hapned so.

[Page 176] Barebeard coming then with Mall before his Grace, complained that he did already perceive his intended marriage would never come to a good event, because he found perfectly that this Maid was a lumpish Jade, a nasty Slut, a Scolding, bawling Carrion, & a restless peece of mortality. There­fore it might go as it would, he did not care for the Maid, neither would he marry her, and for those reasons, he desired his Grace to grant that the Banes might be forbidden; as think­ing it much better for him to quit her betimes, before it was too late. She on the t'other side said, that he was one that run gadding along the streets at all hours of the night, a private drunken beast, a Spend-thrift, &c. so that she did not care for him neither. Whereupon his Grace smiling told them, well you fellow and wench; do you think that we do here so give and take away the consent of marriage? perhaps when you are married, it may [Page 177] be much better, for the marriage bed doth for the most part change the ten sences into five. But she answered, may it please your Grace, he is no such man to do that, for all that he can do is only to follow his own round-head-like stifneckedness, and e'en nothing else. Whereupon he again answered, may it please your Grace, I have no mind ever to try it with such a creature as she is; I should be then fast enough bound to her; neither would I willingly go alive headlong to the Devil, to take my habitation in Hell.

The Bishop thus perceiving that no good thread could be spun of such sort of Flax, caused the Banes to be forbid­den. Then said Barebeard, may it please your Grace, am I not a freeman, & may I not marry with whom I please, or have a mind to? to which his Grace answered, yes. Presently Barebeard thrufting his head out at the dore, calls out aloud, Peg do you come hither now; and begged that his Grace would [Page 178] be pleased to give him leave to marry with this person. Which Mall seeing she cries out, you Rogue, you have been too coming for me in this; if I had the least thoughts on't, I would have had my Hal to have tarried for me at this dore, in stead of tarrying for me at another place. Whereupon his Grace, being in great ire, chid them most shrewdly, giving them such strong reproofs, that at first it might very well be imagined that he would never have admitted of a second con­sent; yet afterwards upon considera­tions it was granted. But Barebeard being now married with Peg, they got no children: And Mall being married to Hal, they had both a Son and a Daughter at one birth. By which its easie to be observed what acquain­tance Mall had made with Barebeard before hand, & why she would rather marry with Hall then with him.

To this again Mistris Sweetmouth relates, that she had been several times [Page 179] invited to Mistris Braves labour; and that she had been twice brought to bed very happily of two delicate twins. And in the last encounter, for a recompence of the affection of her Beloved, she presented him with two lustly and gallant boys; but because she would equally balance his great bounty; the Midwife takes the same walk again for another, and finding in what condition things stood, she calls for a bason of warm water, bringing out at last a most delicate pretty daughter, that was yet poor thing wrapt up in the Cawl. Which she im­mediately laid into the warm water, and shewed unto them all the won­derfull works of nature; for there they could see it move and stir, as if it had been in its Mothers glass Bottle; but the skin being just cut open with a small hole, it begun presently to make a little noise like a weak childish voi­ce, which indeed was very rare & plea­sant to be seen. In truth, such a Father, [Page 180] who can cast every time such high doubblets, may very well be called by the names of Brave.

But this Story was hardly told be­fore Mistris Tittle-tattle pursued it with another out of the same Text­saying, A little more then two years ago I was at a Gossipping by Mistris Gay, who was then brought to bed both of a Son and a Daughter, also at one birth; but indeed the Labour carne so violently upon her, that as she was standing upon the stairs, not being able to set one foot further; and having neither Midwife, nor any other women of her neighbors and friends, only the assistance of her husband and the Maid; she was immediately delivered of two gal­lant Children; but they did not live long.

Upon my word, said Mistris Bounce-about, it is an excellent help when men understand their travel­ling [Page 181] upon such sort of roads. It hap­ned to me once that some Gentle­women were merry with me some­what late in the evening; and because I had had several Symptoms of La­bour, said this Mistris Bounce-about, if you would now take a walk to the Parsley bed, we would help you very bravely; but neither wind nor wea­ther was serviceable at that time. But they had hardly been gone an hour, and being in bed with my hus­band, and he very fast asleep; be­fore there begun such an alteration of the weather; that my husband must up with all speed, who wa­kened the Maid, and sent her for the Midwife laying on fire himself in all hast; yet do all what they could, within less then a quarter of an hour, and that without any bodies help but my husbands, my journy was performed; but things were done with such a confusion; [Page 182] that he received the child in the Chri­stning cloath instead of the Blanket.

And a thousand more such stories as these are ript up; that would bur­then the strongest memory to bear them: and so much the more, because it is impossible to distinguish one from the t'other, when the men and the women that gabble so one a­mong another. And oft-times they spin such course threads of bawdery in their talk, that are enough to spoil a whole web of linnen. And who can tell but that their tattling would last a whole night, for there's hardly one of them who hath not at the least a hun­dred in their Budgets; but because it is high time that either the Dry or Wet-Nurse must go to swathe the child, they begin to break off and shorten their prittle-prattle.

Now young Father, do but observe what fine airy complements will be presented to you at their parting. Every one thanks you for your kind [Page 183] and cordial entertainment, and not one of them forgets to wish that you may the next year either have a Daughter to your Son, or a Son to your Daughter; imagining then that all things is well, when you receive such a full crop: But I am most apt to beleeve that all their wishes aim at the But of coming next year again to the Gossips Feast, to toss up the Gossips­bowl, and in telling of a bobbinjo story they peep into all nooks and corners.

Well, O new Father, this Pleasure begins to come to a conclusion; but prithee tell me, would not a body wish for the getting of such another, that his Wife might make a journy to the Parsly-bed twice a year?

Now Nurse have at you; you shall now reap the fruit of all your running and going early & late to invite them. Oh thinks she by her self, would but every shilling change it self into a crown-peece. But Nurse you'l hardly [Page 184] be troubled with a fit of that yellow Jaundies sickness, for there's no drug at the Apothecaries, nor any lite among the Beggars that can cure you of it. And I dare say Nurse, that you'l go nigh to perceive that its a very hard time, and mony mighty scarce: because formerly the women used to put their hands more liberally in their purses, and one gave a crown, another half a crown; but the times are now so strangely altered, that they keep little mild-shillings only for that use, nay some of them rub it off with a couple of their Grandams gray groats. But howsoever I hope for your sake, it will not be here accor­ding as often happens, fair promises but no performances; for if it should, I protest ye ought to have made your bargain to have had a peece more at the least for your Nurse keeping; or otherwise you must have had the full liberty to toss up the remains of all that was left in the Gossipping [Page 185] Bowls, or else to have carried the key of the Wine Cellar alwaies in your pocket, and then after the feeding and swathing the child, you might in the twinkling of an eye, swinge up a lustly glass upon the good health of the Fa­ther, Child-bed mother and the Child; for the Wine was laid in to be made use of to that end and purpose; and it is commonly known that the Nurses are not so mealy mouth'd; for although they don't do it that every one should see it, they'l be sure with the Maid to get their shares in one corner or other. But you must for this again think, that the freer you let them take their swing herein, the more care they will take for the Child.

Now Nurse, don't spare to make good use of your time, for it belongs amongst other things to this Plea­sure; and the new Father will never­theless be turning about to another mirth, and then you may be sure to [Page 186] expect to have a God be w'ye. There­fore make much of your self, and toss up your glasses stoutly at the Wine-Cask; who knows whether you may have the opportunity this twelve month again to meet with such a good Nurse-keeping; a liquorish sweet-tooth'd Child-bed woman, & a plentifull house-keeping, is not eve­ry where. And you may certainly be­leeve, that the month will be no sooner ended, then that you'l begin to stink here; for the Mistris will be­gin to consider with her self, that she can make a shift with the Maid and Wet-Nurse; so that then you must expect to get your undesired Pass.

Then you must return back again to your own lodging, that dark, moist and mournfull Cell, and satisfie your self, if you can get it, with a mess of nilk and brown George, or some such sort of lean fare: So that you'l have time enough to wast away that ful­somness and fogginess of body, that [Page 187] you have gotten in your Nurse­keeping. For there's no body that will give you any thing, or thinks in the least upon your attendance, unless they want you again.

O new Father, pray for it to come again within a twelve month, that you may have a renew­ing of this pleasure once more; for it is with the Nurse-taking its leave, and will conduct you to a fol­lowing.

THE TENTH PLEASURE,
A great Child-bed Feast is kept, and the Child put in Cloaths.

OH how pleasant is th'estate of married people, above that of Batchelors and Maids? how it distributes Mirths and Pleasures! Verily one may in some measure recogitate or write something of it, but it is im­possible to imprint so Sun-like a splendor in Potters clay, or to display it with the most curious Colours. Though the accomplishedst Painter might have drawn it very near the life, yet it would be but a dead draught, in comparison of the reality and experience that is found in it self. You have already seen here nine Parts or Tables but it is not ninety [Page]

[figure]

[Page] [Page 189] Pictures that can sufficiently shew you the fulness of one of the nine Parts.

Be therefore chearfully merry, O sweet Couple, because you are in so short a time arisen to the height of being possessors of all these Pleasures: And so much the more, the ninth being hardly past, before the tenth follows, as it were treading upon the heels of the t'other.

I hey have scarce wiped their mouths or digested the Child-bed Wine in their stomacks, before there starts up a new day of mirth & jollity; for now there must be a Child-bed feast kept & the child must be put in Cloaths. O what two yast Pleasures are these for the young Father! 'tis indeed too much joy for one person alone to be possessor of.

At first you had the Pleasure for to treat the Women, those pretty plea­sing Creatures, and to hear all their sweet and amiable discourses. But now you shall be honoured with trea­ting [Page 190] the Matron like Midwife, and those Men and Women that are your kindest friends and nearest relations; Yea and the God-Fathers and God-Mothers also who will all of them ac­company you with courteous dis­courses and pleasant countenances: They will begin a lusty Bowl or thumping glass, super naculum drink it out, upon the health & prosperity of you, your Bedfellow and young Son; and very heartily wish that you may increase and multiply, at least every year with one new Babe; because that they then might the better come to the Child bed Feast.

Here you'l see now how smartly they'l both lick your dishes, and toss your Cups and Glasses off. Begin you only some good healths, as; pray God bless his Majesty and all the Royal Family: the Prosperity of our Native Country; all the Well-wishers of the Cities welfare, &c. And when you have done, they'l begin; and [Page 191] about it goes to invest you with the honour and name, in a full bowl to the Father of the Family; Well is not that a noble title; such a Pleasure alone is worth a thousand pounds at lest.

And whilest the Men are busie this way; the good woman with the other Women are contriving on the other side how the Child ought to be put in Cloaths upon the best and modishest manner: For she is resolved to mor­row morning to be Church'd, & in the afternoon she'l go to market.

She accomplishes the first well enough, but is at a damnable doubt in the second part of her resolution; for by the way, in the Church, and in the streets, she hath continually observed severall children, and the most part of them dressed up in severall sorts of fa­shions: Some of them she hath a great fancy for, but then she doubts whether that be the newest mode or not. One seems too plain and common, which makes her imagine in her thoughts; [Page 192] that's too Clownish. But others stand very neat and handsom. 'Tis rue, the Stuf and the Lining is costly and very dear; but then again it is very comly and handsom. And then again she thinks with her self, as long as I am at Market, I'd as good go through stitch with it; and make but one paying for all; it is for our first, and but for a little child, not for a great person; therefore it is better to take that which is cu­rious and neat, the price for making is all one; besides it will be a great Plea­sure for my husband when he sees how delicately the child is drest up, and his mony so extraordinarily well hus­banded.

Now, my dearest, pray be you mer­ry: if the stuf hath cost somthing much, you have need but of little; and it is for your first. When it grows big­ger, or that you get more, you must part with much more mony. Don't grudge at this for once, because then you would spoil all your mirth and [Page 193] Pleasure with it. Rejoice that you have a Wife, who is not only good to fetch children out of the Parsley Bed; but is also very carefull to see them well nourished, and neat and cleanly cloath'd. You your self have the praise and commendation of it. Let her alone a while, for women must have their wills; say but little to her, for her brains are too much busied already; and it may be that in three hours time, you would hardly get three words of answer from her; and suppose you should relate somthing or other to her, this shall be your answer from her at last, that she did not well understand you, because all her thoughts, nay her very sences do as it were glide to & again, one among another continual­ly, to order the dressing up of her child.

I am very well assured, O new in­vested Husband, that your wits at pre­sent run a Wool-gathering, because that both Merchandize and Trade [Page 194] are neither of them so quick as you would fain see them; and by reason of this tedious and destructive War, mo­nies is horrible scarle, nothing near so plentifull as you could wish it to be: But comfort your self herewith, that it hath hapned oft-times to others, & will yet also happen oftner to you. Yet this is one of the least things; but stay a little, to morrow or next day the Nurse goes away. This seems to be a merriment indeed; for then you'l have an Eater, a Stroy-good, a Stuf­gut, a Spoil-all, and Prittle-pratlen, less than you had before.

You are yet so happy that you have a Wet-Nurse, that carefully looks after the Child; by which means both you and your Wife are freed from tos­sing and tumbling with it in the night: whilest others, on the contrary, that have no Wet Nurses in their houses; begin first to tast, when the Dry-Nurse goes away, what a Pleasure it is that the Child must be set by the Bed­side, [Page 195] and the charge thereof left unto both Father & Mother, when it often­times happens that the good woman is yet so weak, she can neither lay the Child in, nor take it out of the Cradle; insomuch that the Father here must put a helping hand to't, be­cause he is of a stronger constitution, and hath the greatest share in it.

By my faith such as those are they who have the first and true tast of the Kernel of the Tenth Pleasure; because the husband ought as then, out of a tender affection for his wife to rock continually, that she might take her rest; otherwise she would not get any suck in her breasts for the Child: And happy they are somtimes, if they come oft with but rocking the most part of the night; for many times it happens, that the Child is so restless and un­quiet, that Father, Mother, & Maid; nay and all whatsoever is in the house must out of their beds to quiet it; and though they use a thousand tricks [Page 196] and stratagems, yet all's to no pur­pose.

And yet this is but a small matter for them neither; for before a few months are past, the child begins to get teeth; and bawls and cries so night & day, that they can tell the clock all the night long; wishing a thousand thousand times over that they might see day-break; and so by the comfor­table assistance of day-light receive a little solace for all their toiling and tumbling too and again.

Yet I would advise such as these, that they must in no manner be dis­comforted at this; if they intend to de­monstrate that they have learnt som­thing in the School of Marriage, to exercise their patiences: But, on the contrary, to shew themselves con­tented with all things; being assured, that hereafter when all this trouble is past, they shall receive the happiness, that the child will return them thanks with its pretty smiles; and in time also [Page 197] will salute them with a slabbering co­curring. And I beleeve now that they clearly find that all things do not go so even in this World, as they well imagined: And that the fairest Sun­shine of Marriage, may be somtimes darkned with a Cloudy Storm.

You married people, that have the help of a Wet-Nurse, receive a much greater advantage in participating of the Pleasures of Marriage, neither need you to be troubled with tossing & dandling of the child in the night. But on the contrary, you may chal­lenge one another to encounter with all sorts of weapons for venial plea­sures; whereby you may most certain­ly be assured (by reason the child doth not suck its own Mother, that she's therefore touch and take the sooner) that you will very speedily and unex­pectedly receive the tiding, that your beloved is proved with child, and be­gins to reckon again.

O, young House-Father, this is a [Page 198] most incomparable Pleasure for you! For now you may most certainly see the approach of a Daughter to your Son; and by that means reap the pos­session again of all those former Plea­sures; & by every one be saluted with the Title that you are an excellent good Artist at it.

If it be so, be carefull that you do not gad up and down with your wife too much on horseback, or in Coa­ches; for fear it might make her miscarry. But you have learnt all these things well enough at the first, and without doubt have kept them well in remembrance.

Do but behold, in the mean time, what an unexpressible Pleasure your dearly Beloved hath in the tricking up of her sweet Baby in the most neatest dresses. What a World of pains she takes & spends her spirits, to make the Tailor understand, according to what fashion she will have it made; & to hasten him that all things may be [Page 199] ready and totally finisht against Sun­day next.

O new Father, now open your eys! Behold what a pretty Son you have! How happy you are in so loving and understanding a Wife that knows how to triek it so curiously up in this man­ner! She was never better pleased! Undoubtedly the Summer nights are too long, and the daies too short for her to gad up and down traversing the streets of the City, that she may full­fill her desire of shewing it to every body: never was any thing more neatly drest. But the Nurse and the Maid wish the Child in the mean while at Jericho; for their very backs and sides seem to be absolutely broken with carrying it up & down from day to day. And most especially when the Child is wean'd, and the Wet-Nurse turn'd away, the Maid cannot let it penetrate into her brain; that she now not only the whole week must rock, sing, dandle, dress, and walk abroad [Page 200] with it; but that she is upon Sundaies also bound to the Child, like a Dog to a halter; and never can stir out; as she formerly did, to walk abroad with Giles the Baker, or John True the Tay­lor; nor so much as go once to give a visit to her Country-folks or kindred; which occasions no smail difference between the Maid and the Mistris.

But good House Father, never trouble your self at it, for this belongs also to the Pleasures of Marriage; nor do not seem discontented because your Dearest walks abroad thus every day; but rather think with your self, she takes her spinning Wheel and reel along with her. And if in her absence, you have not that due attendance, nor find that in the house and Kitchin, things are not so well taken care for why then, you must imagine to be sa­tisfied with th'assistance of the Sem­stress, or some such sort of person, as well as you were when you injoied the Eighth Pleasure: You must also [Page 201] observe, that if the Child should sit much, it might get crooked legs, and then the sweet Babe were ruined for ever. It is also too weak yet to be any waies roughly handled; but it begins from day to day to grow stronger and stronger: Also with your Dearests carrying it abroad continually to visit all your friends and acquaintance, it learns by degrees to eat all things, and drinks not only Beer, but some Wine too. And I assure you it is no small Pleasure for the Father and Mother to see that this little young Gosling can so perfectly distinguish the tast of the Wine, from the tast of the Beer: tho when it is come to some elder years, perhaps they would give a hundred pound, if they could but wean it from it. But that's too far to be lookt into. And care too soon taken makes peo­ple quickly gray-headed.

Before you reach this length, yea perhaps before some few weeks are at an end; you will see this sweet Babe [Page 202] afflicted with either the Measels or small Pox; and then you'l wish for a good sum of mony that he might not be disfigured with them, in having many pock-holes. And it is no won­der, for who knows whether he may be past small-pocking and measeling when he is five & twenty years of age? But on the contrary there may then perchance appear so many glimps of marriage Pleasures from him, that such small things will not be once look at.

For if your Wife be now upon a new reckoning, and you come then, as I have told you before, to get a Daughter; you will in time see what a pretty sweet Gentlewoman she'l grow to be; how modestly & orderly she goes to learn to write and read; but most especially to prick samples; which perhaps she'l be wholly perfect in, before she hath half learnt to sow: nay its probable that she'l be an Artist at the making of Bone-lace, though she was never taught it.

[Page 203] Otherwise both you & her Mother will reap an extraordinary Pleasure in seeing your Daughter grow up in all manner of comly and civil deport­ments; and that she begins to study in the book of French manners and be­haviours; and knows also how to dress up her self so finically with all manner of trinkum trankums, that all the neighbouring young Gentlewomen, and your rich Neeces esteem them­selves very much honoured with the injoiment of her company; where they, following the examples of their Predecessors, do, by degrees, instruct one another in the newest fashions, finest Flanders Laces, the difference and richness of Stuffs, the neatest cut Gorgets, and many more such lin­combobs as these. Nay, and what's more, they begin also to invite and treat each other like grave per­sons, according as the opportunity will allow them, first with some Cher­ries and Plums; then with some Fil­buds [Page 204] and Small Nuts; or Wallnuts & Figs; and afterwards with some Ches­nuts and new Wine; or to a game at Cards with a dish of Tee, or else to eat some Pancakes and Fritters or a Tansie; nay, if the Coast be clear to their minds to a good joint of meat & a Sallad. Till at last it comes so far, that through these delicious conver­sations, they happen to get a Sweet­heart, and in good time a bedfellow to keep them from slumbring and sleep­ing. And it is very pleasing to see that they do so observe the making good of the old Proverb,

As old Birds did, the young ones sing,
Which is a very pleasant thing.

Happy are you, ô you new Hous­holders, who have already possessed your selves of so many Pleasures in your marriage; and are now come just to the very entrance to repossess your selves of them over again; and per­chance they'l never depart from you [Page 205] as long as you see the one day follow the other. Be not backward or ne­gligent in relating your happiness to others; but if there be any distast or disaster that can happen in the mar­ried estate, lock it up in the very Closet of your heart, and abhor ever­lastingly the thoughts of relating it; then you will have many that will pursue your footsteps, and be Listed into your Company, & then also will your estate and condition be famous through the whole World.

Conclusion.

THus long you have seen, Cour­teous Reader, how that those married people, who are but indiffe­rently gifted with temporal means, indeavour to puff up each other with vain and airy hopes and imaginations, perswading themselves that all the troubles, vexations, and bondages of the married estate; are nothing else [Page 206] but Mirths, Delights and Pleasures; perhaps to no other end but to miti­gate their own miserable condition, or else to draw others into the same unhappy snare; as indeed oftentimes hapneth. But it is most sad and lamen­table, that the meaner sort of people, when they have thrown themselves into it, make their condition a thou­times worse then it was before: For they, who at first could but very sober­ly and sparingly help themselves, do find when they are married, that they must go through not only ten, but at least a thousand cares and vexations. And all what hath hitherto been said of the ten Pleasures, is only spoken of the good and most agreeable mat­ches; and not of any of those, which many times are so different and con­trary of humour, as the light is from darkness; where there is a continual Hell of dissention, cursing, mumbling and maundring; nay biting & scratch­ing into the bargain, which for the [Page 207] most part is occasioned by the quar­relsom, crabbed, lavish, proud, opi­nionated, domineering, and unbridled nature of the female sex. Besides there are a great number (which I will be silent of) who do all they can to please others, and Cuckold their own husbands. And others there are that disguise themselves so excessively with strong Waters, that a whole day long they can hardly close their Floud-gates. So that you need not wonder much, if you see the greatest part of women (tho they trick them­selves never so finely up) can hardly get husbands; and their Parents are fain at last to give a good sum of mony with them, that they may dis­burthen themselves of them. Inso­much that it is easie to be seen that they are in effect of less value then old Iron, Boots and Shoes, &c. for we find both Merchants and mony ready al­waies to buy those commodities.

Therefore o you that are yet so [Page 208] happy as to have kept your selves out of this dreadfull estate of marriage, have a horror for it. Shun a woman much more then a Fish doth the hook, Remember that Solomon amongst all woman-kind could not find one good. Observe by what hath befallen those that went before you, what is approaching to your self, if you follow their footsteps. And be most certainly assured that the acutest pens are not able to expound the light & feasiblest troubles and disasters of marriage, set then aside the most difficile and pon­derous. Do but read with a special ob­servation the insuing Letter of a Friends advice touching marriage; imprintit as with a Seal upon yoar heart; and lay fast hold upon that gol­den expression of the glorious Apo­stle, It is good for man not to touch a woman.

The End of the Ten Pleasures of Marriage.

A LETTER From one Friend to another, Desiring to know whether it be advisa­ble to marry.

SIR,

I Must acknowledge that the Letter which you have writ me hath given me some incum­brance, and made me more then three times to ruminate upon the question you propounded to me concerning Marriage; for it is a matter of great importance, that ought to be well pondered and consi­dered of, before one should adventure to solemnize & celebrate it. Several of my familiar friends have troubled me touching the very same subject, and I gave them every one my advice according as they were affected; but me-thinks I ought not to deal so [Page 210] loose and unboundedly with you, by reason I dare speak unto you with more freedom and truth. First, there are two things which bind me strictly to you, Nature and the Affection; and moreover the great knowledge I have of this so necessary an evil. I will tell you my opinion, then you may use your own discretion, whether you will approve of my meaning for ad­vice or not. For my part, I beleeve that of all the disasters we are subject to in our life time, that of Marriage takes preference from all the rest: But for as much as it is necessary for the multiplying the World, it is sit it should be used by such as are not sen­sible of it, and can hardly judge of the consequences thereof. Neither do I esteem any man unhappy, let what­soever disasters there will happen to him, if he doth not fall beyond his sence so far as to take a Wife. Those troubles that may befall us otherwise, are alwaies of so small a strength I that [Page 211] he who hath but the least magnani­mity may easily overpower them. But the Tortures of Marriage are such a burthen, that I never saw no man, let him be as couragious as he would, which it hath not brought under the yoke of her Tyranny. Marry then, you shall have a thousand vexations, a thousand torments, a thousand dissa­tisfactions, a thousand plagues; and in a word, a thousand sort of repentings, which will accompany you to your Grave. You may take or chuse what sort of a Wife you will, she'l make you every day repent your taking of her. What cares will come then to awake and disturb you in the middle of your rest! and the fear of some mischance or other will feed your very spirit with a continual trouble. For a mor­ning-alarm you shall have the children to a waken you out of sleep. Their lives shall hasten your death. You shall never be at quiet till you are in your Grave. You will be pining at [Page 212] many insufferable troubles, and a thousand several cogitations will be vexing your spirits at the chargeable maintenance of your Family. Inso­much that your very Soul will be tor­mented with incessant crosses, which alwaies accompany this evil, in the very happiest marriages. So that a Man ought in reality to confess, that he who can pass away his daies with­out a Wife is the most happiest. Ve­rily a Wife is a heavy burthen; but especially a married one; for a Maid that is. Marriageable, will do all that ever she can to hide her infirmities, till she be tied in Wedlock to either one or other miserable wretch. She overpowers her very nature and affec­tions; changes her behaviour, & covers all her evil and wicked intentions. She dissembleth her hypocrisie, and hides her cunning subtleties. She puts away all her bad actions, and masks all her deeds. She mollifies both her speech and face; and to say all in one word, [Page 113] she puts on the face of an Angel, till she hath found one or other whom she thinks fit to deceive with her base tricks and actions. But having caught him under the Slavery of this false ap­parition; she then turns the t'other side of the Meddal; and draws back the curtain of her Vizards, to shew the naked truth, which she so long had palliate, and her modesty only forbad her to reveal: By degrees then vomiting up the venom that she so long had harboured under her sweet hypocrisie. And then is repenting, or the greatest understanding of no worth to you: Perhaps you may tell me, that you have a Mistris, who is fair, rich, young, wise, airy, and hath the very majestical countenance of a Queen upon her forehead; and that these are all reasons which oblige you to love her. But I pray, consider with your self, that a fair Woman is oftentimes tempted; a young, perillous; a rich, proud and haughty; a wise, hypocriti­cal; [Page 214] an airy, full of folly; and if she be eloquent, she is subject to speak evil­ly: If she be jocund and light-hearted, she'l leave you to go to her compa­nions, and thinks that the care of her mind, is with you in your solitariness; and by reason she can flatter you so well, it never grieves you. If she be open-hearted, her freedom of spirit will appear hypocritical to you: her airiness you will judge to be tricks that will be very troublesom to you. If she love playing, she'l ruine you. If she be liquorish and sweet-tooth'd, she leads your children the ready road to an Hospital. If she be a bad House­keeper, she lets all things run to de­struction, that hath cost you so much care and trouble to get together. If she be a finical one, that will go rich in her apparel, she'l fill the Shop­keepers Counters with your mony. And in this manner her lavishness, shall destroy all your estate. To be short, let her be as she will, she shall [Page 215] never bring you much profit. In good troth, I esteem very little those sort of things, which you imagine to have a great delight in. 'Tis true, if you take a Wife, which is ugly, poor, innocent, without either air or spirit; that's a continual burthen to you all your life time. The old are commonly despi­sed; the ugly abhor'd; the poor slighted; and the innocent laught at. They are called beasts that have no ingenuity: and women without airi­ness, have generally but small sence of love. In these last some body might say to you, that one ought to take of them that are indifferently or reaso­nably well qualified. But I will surge a little higher, and tell you plainly, that that will be just like one who fearing to drown himself at the brinks of a River, goeth into the middle, to be the higher above water. You see now, why I cannot advise you to marry. Yet I would not have you to beleeve, tho I so much discom­mend [Page 216] it, that it is no waies usefully profitable. I esteem it to be a holy in­stitution ordained by God Almighty. That which makes it bad is the wo­man, in whom there is no good. If you will marry, you must then con­clude never to be any thing for your self again; but to subject your self to the toilsom will and desires of a Wife, most difficult to be born with; to pass by all her deficiences; to assist her in­firmities; to satisfie her insatiable de­sires; to approve of all her pleasures, & what soever she also will you must condescend to. Now you have heard and understood all my reasons and ar­guments, you may then tell me, that you have a fine estate, and that you would willingly see an heir of your own that might possess it; and that it would be one of your greatest de­lights, to see your own honour and vertues survive in your children. But as to that I'l answer you, and say, that your reward shall be greater in re­lieving [Page 217] the poor and needy; then to leave rich remembrances to Heirs; and procure you an everlasting bles­sing, that you might otherwise leave for a prey to your children; who it may be are so bastardized in their birth, that they are both Spendthrifts and Vagabonds; for it happens oft that good trees do not alwaies bring forth good fruit. If, when you have seriously perused this my Letter, you are not affrighted at your intention; marry: but if you take it indifferently; marry not. And beleeve me, that a man who is free from the troubles & vexations of marriage, is much hap­pier and hath more content to him­self in one day, then another in the whole scope of his Wedlock. And what's more, a single man may freely and resolutely undertake all things, to Travel, go to battell, be solitary, & live according to his own delight; without fearing that at his death he shall leave a Widow and Fatherless [Page 218] children, who must be delivered over to the Fates, for their friends will never look after them. Hitherto I have kept you up, concerning your in­tention; and further I give you no other advice, then what by your self you may take to your self. If you mar­ry, you do well: but not marrying, you do better. And if you will incline to me, rather then to marry, you shall alwaies find me to be

SIR
Your very humble servant A. B.

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