The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses from Men Part 5

_LONDON:_

Printed in the Year 1707

THE _Fifteen COMFORTS_ OF A Wanton WIFE, _&c._

_The First Comfort._

Unhappy Man! yoak'd with a wanton Wife, The Wedding Day begins thy wretched Life.

Not all the Hurry of a Married State, Can stint her Humour, make her more Sedate.

She'as all the Tricks the Devil can infuse Into her Head; her Husband to abuse.

Her first attempt, when once the knot is ty'd.

Is how to Govern what she cannot Guide; She flatters first, and if that chance to fail, To gain her Ends a worser Method shall.

Force must (where Words have no effect) ensue, It is her Humour, and it shall be so.

Thus does the fright the poor mistaken Sot, To change his Breeches for a Petticoat: If Kick'd or Buffeted, he dare not move, But thinks 'tis only tokens of her Love.

What she affirms (tho' diff'rent from the Sight, It must be so, she's always in the right.

_The Second Comfort._

When thus she'as made her silly Husband bend, She'll never let him have the upper hand.

She manages Affairs, while he (poor Soul) Consents, because he's fearful to controul; Not that she will to Diligence adhere, She'll take the Pleasure, he may take the Care.

Containing an unequal Dividend, His Business is to get, and hers to spend.

If he's unable to supply her l.u.s.t, She'll take such care of that, another must.

Her Prentice, Bully, Stallion, Foes or Friends, No matter who, if she but gain her Ends: While he's the very Subject of her Scorns, And sounds himself a Cuckold with his Horns: Yet she's so cunning, that she rails at Evil, And says, she hates a Harlot as the Devil.

So have I heard a Pulpit Hector rant At Drunkenness, as zealous as a Saint, Curse it to h.e.l.l, with trembling and with fear, Tho' 'twas a Vice he seldom cou'd forbear.

So she derides the thing she fancies best, And d.a.m.ns the Sin she harbours in her Breast.

_The Third Comfort._

Next comes a little Bantling to Town, Which the unthinking Cuckold calls his own.

'Tis like him too, as ever it can stare, The midnight Gossips then do all declare.

_His very Picture_; every one do cry, _His Mouth, his Lips, his Chin, his Nose and Eye._ They tell him this, and he believes it too, Tho' it was gotten by the Lord knows who.

Yet this Advantage from it he doth draw, He reigns chief Master, while she's in the Straw.

But when she rises, all his Power must cease, And with it too, his Comfort and his Peace.

Her Tongue's compounded of all sorts of ill, Given to lie, but seldom lying still.

_You Rogue_ (quoth she) _where has your Rakeship been?

These Thirty days your Honest Wife lay in?

Here, Rock the Child, while I go take the Air, I won't be stifled up no longer here._

_The Fourth Comfort._

Away she flings, and leaves him with her Brat, And goes from House to House to Drink and Chat, Finds out a Cully to her l.u.s.tful Mind, And makes a Bargain with him to be kind.

From time to time she has such freaks as these, And turns an errand Strumpet by degrees.

Yet blinds her Husband with this wild Excuse, _She goes to see an Aunt behind the_ Meuse.

And if he blames her, thus for staying late, He is in danger of a broken Pate.

So that he's forc'd to stay at home to Rock, While his Leud Wife is wasting of his Stock.

This course of Life for many years she leads.

And wallows in her l.u.s.tful wicked deeds Thus are her teeming years in Folly spent, In Clamour, Self-conceit, and Discontent.

Impetuous in her ways; abruptly bold, The worst of Wh.o.r.es, yet must not be controul'd.

_The Fifth Comfort._

The Husband all this while concludes her Chaste, And little thinks she spends his Wealth so fast, 'Till Pocky Pains begins to smart below, Then mildly asks her if she made him so?

At which she swears, and bold'y starts this Whim, That she had catch'd the Foul Disease of him: Which strange Retort, makes him suspect the Crime, She had concealed from him so long a time.

_The Sixth Comfort._

He tells her of her Faults, and mildly says, Dear Wife 'tis got by going thus to Plays.

To which she answers, like a Cunning Jilt, _It is the very cause of this my Guilt, But take my Word, I ne'er did so before.

Nor never while I live, do so no more._ With feigned Tears, and with a _Judas_ Kiss; She said _(My Dear) I own I have done amiss.

But if you'll Pardon me this very time, I'll for the future loath so vile a Crime._

_The Seventh Comfort._

The Man o're-joy'd to hear such Words as these, From her, he hardly ever yet could please.

In loving Terms, embrac'd her in his Arms, And said, his chief delight was in her Charms.

Besides he added, if she would be Chaste, He'd freely Pardon'd her for what was past.

All seeming Friendship now's afresh renew'd.

On promise she wou'd ne'er again be Leud.

With Tears and Kisses, (Woman like) she Fawns.

And asks his Pardon on her Marrow-bones.

_The Eighth Comfort._

The Cunning Jilt, she being thus forgiven, Next studdies how to make her Ballance even.

That is to please her Husband and her Friend, And all this while a Vertuous Wife pretend.

At last she makes a League with _John_ her Man, And thus afresh her Wickedness began, By subtle Arts, more cautious than before, She pleas'd her Husband, yet was still a Wh.o.r.e.

_The Ninth Comfort._

Thus seeming Prudence, when 'tis ill apply'd, It makes the Breach more dangerous and wide.

For tho' it may at first appear more bright, And something dazling to a weaker light.

Yet being view'd with more discerning thought, What seem'd real good, is found to be stark nought.

For this base Woman grows from bad to worse, And proves her Husband's Plague, as well as Curse; Consumes his Stock, on some sad l.u.s.tful Knave, And makes her Spouse a Cuckold and a Slave.

_The Tenth Comfort._