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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13971 ***
+
+[Transcriber's Note: The following was proofread from what appear to
+be scans of photocopies of a reproduction of the original text. On top
+of the original's battered type-face and archaic spellings, this
+preparer, and the proofreaders before him, have had to contend with
+dirty or faded images and missing margins. We have made our best
+guesses as to the missing letters, but in some cases we were stymied;
+those few places are marked with [*?]. In addition, the most obvious
+printer's mistakes (transposed, missing, obviously incorrect, and even
+upside-down letters) have been corrected.]
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                  THE
+                           Fifteen Comforts
+                                  OF
+                              MATRIMONY.
+
+                                  OR,
+
+          Looking glass for all Those who
+          have Enter'd in that Holy and Comfortable State.
+          herein are sum'd up all those Blessings that attend
+          a Married Life.
+
+               _Dedicated to Batchelors and Widdowers._
+
+                 _London._ Printed in the Year, 1706.
+
+
+
+
+                  The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.
+
+
+
+
+                   _The First Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         Happy were Man, when born as free as Air,
+         Did he that freedom as he ought, prefer;
+         But the first Thing he sets his Heart upon,
+         Is to be Married, and to be undone:
+         On some young _Girl_ he casts his wanton Eyes,
+         And wooes her with fine Complements and Toys.
+         But that's not all--he grows in Love at last,
+         And is impatient till those Joys he taste:
+         Nor do's the wishing Virgin disagree,
+         In what she longs to taste as well as he;
+         Married they are--no Couple for a while
+         Enjoy such Pleasure, Fortune seems to smile:
+         But all's a Dream, from which in time they wake,
+         And now their Breasts of other Cares partake:
+         She grows true Woman, sullen, proud, and high,
+         Complains he keeps her not accordingly,
+         To what she brought--wants This rich Thing, and That
+         Until she runs him o'er Head and Ears in Debt,
+         That in a Gaol he's forc'd to end his Life,
+         The first great Comfort flowing from a Wife.
+
+
+                  _The Second Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         Another that has got a Handsome Wife,
+         Makes her the only Heaven of his Life;
+         Keeps her Extravagantly, Fine and Gay,
+         And never thinks she makes too much away;
+         The _Treats_ and _Balls_ she is invited to,
+         And he good Man, consents that she shall go:
+         Believes her Company is much desired,
+         And's proud to think she shou'd be so admired:
+         Until at length, by chance he finds the Truth,
+         And catches her with some enamour'd Youth:
+         Surpriz'd--but dare not make the Matter known,
+         Conceals her Shame, that he may hide his own;
+         He ever after spends an anxious Life,
+         Heavy his Sorrow, and as Light his Wife.
+
+
+                   _The Third Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         Scarce has another three full Moons beguil'd,
+         But that his forward Spouse has prov'd with Child,
+         And now begins the drugery of Life,
+         Lo! the vast Comforts of a Breeding Wife,
+         Now she's grown Squeamish, such ado is kept,
+         She e'en as peevish as an _Ape_ new whipt,
+         She pukes and whines, do's nothing but complain,
+         And vows she'll never know the like again;
+         But 'tis as Children promise to be good,
+         Only remember'd while they feel the Rod.
+         And now the look'd for time approaches nigh,
+         And you've a thousand several Things to buy,
+         The Twi-lights, Blankets, and the Lord knows what,
+         To keep the Child, perhaps he never got,
+         A noise of Bawdy Gossips in his Ears,
+         Until his House like _Billings gate_ appears,
+         Thus amply curst, he grows discreetly dull,
+         And from a Man of Sence, becomes a Fool.
+
+
+                       _The Fourth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         One that so fast in _Hymens_ Net appears,
+         He has been strugling in't near twenty Years:
+         With Care and Toil to propagate his Store,
+         Able to keep the Wolf just from the Door;
+         As num'rous Offspring round his Table spread;
+         Daughters for Marriage fit, and Sons for Trades,
+         Is Blest with Comforts of the Marriage Bed.
+         Charges encreasing daily, and the thought
+         Where to get Money to dispose 'em out?
+         Or then perhaps he feels the greater Curse,
+         The Sons turn Sots, or Fools, the Daughters worse;
+         The Wife still teezing him to do his part,
+         Until he has enough to break his Heart.
+
+
+                       _The Fifth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         But the least pitied is your Aged Ass,
+         Who tho full Sixty, wou'd for Forty pass:
+         And that he may be sure a Crop to have,
+         And carry _Horns_ fresh budding to his Grave,
+         On one of Twenty, blooming as a Rose,
+         His dry and wither'd Carkass he bestows:
+         She jilts, intrigues, and plays upon him still,
+         Keeps her Gallants, and Rambles at her Will;
+         Do's nothing but her Pride and Pleasure mind,
+         And throws his Gold like Chaff before the Wind;
+         Until at length she beggars the old Slave,
+         And brings his Gray-Hairs with Sorrow to the Grave.
+
+
+                       _The Sixth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         The next in course is he that weds a Shrew;
+         One that will talk, and wear the Breeches too;
+         Governs, insults, do's what e'er she thinks fit,
+         And he good Man, must to her Will submit;
+         Mannages all Affairs at home, abroad,
+         While he a Cypher seems, and stands for naught;
+         When e'er he speaks, she snaps him, and crys,
+         _Pray hold your Tongue, who was't made you so wife?
+         You will be prating, though you nothing know:_
+         This he must bear, and be contented too,
+         See his Friends slighted, and must silent be,
+         Till Death shall from the Torment set him free.
+
+
+                      _The Seventh Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Another that has liv'd some Years in Peace,
+         A wedded Life--do's now in strength decrease,
+         Nor able is to satisfie that Debt,
+         Which Marriage claims, and Women still expect,
+         Wherefore she now withdraws her Love and Care,
+         Reviles, and twits him of his Slights to her;
+         Makes it a daily Quarrel, flings and throws,
+         And Peace is now a Stranger to his House;
+         Nay, even his Servants, and his Children too,
+         E'en act the same they see the Mother do,
+         While he declining, and consumptive sits,
+         Bears all with patience, and to all submits.
+
+
+                       _The Eighth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Another _Lady_, nicer bred and born,
+         Makes Huswif'ry, and Providence her Scorn
+         Her Maid and she must to the _Wells_ repair,
+         She is not well, and goes to take the Air:
+         The House to Servants she entrusts at home,
+         And down on _Saturday_ her Spouse must come,
+         And with him something very Costly bring,
+         Or Treat her there with some nice pretty thing,
+         She brought a Fortune, and it must be so,
+         But home to Rack and Ruin all do's go,
+         He sums his Gains, and finds it will not do;
+         In that for fifteen hundred pound she brought,
+         He'd better had a Huswife in her Smock.
+
+
+                       _The Ninth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Another that with Prudence, and with Cares,
+         Has mannag'd well his Family Affairs,
+         Govern'd his Wife and Children with that ease,
+         Which always kept the Family in peace;
+         His sons and Daughters educated so,
+         None better bred, none cou'd gentiler go:
+         The Sons are now set up to drive their Trade,
+         The daughters married, and their Fortunes paid.
+         One Son runs out, another takes ill ways,
+         For which their Father's Pocket always pays;
+         The Daughter's Husband breaks, and she must come
+         And live a burthen on him again at home;
+         Until the daily Cares that they impart,
+         Break first his Substance, and then break his Heart.
+
+
+                       _The Tenth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         One thinking to encrease the Joys of Life,
+         Marries a Beautiful young Buxom Wife;
+         But soon he finds himself grow cloy'd and weak,
+         Nor can he give her half those Joys she'd take,
+         He now Consumptive, Pale and Meagre grows,
+         While she complaining to her Parents goes;
+         Says _she can't Love him, such a one as he._
+         And now desires she may live sep'rately.
+         The poor fond Parents to him trudge in haste,
+         And reprimand him soundly for what's past.
+         He knows no Cause--Nor thinks he is to blame,
+         They tell him plainly she shall live with them,
+         And he allow her what is fit to have,
+         Which he must yield to if he'll quiet have.
+
+
+                     _The Eleventh Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Another has begun before her Time,
+         Tasted those joys--but still conceal'd her Crime
+         And now her Parents thinks her fit to Wed,
+         (The Man that has her's finely brought to Bed,)
+         Some hopeful Youth of Equal Worth is found,
+         And soon his Suit with glad Success is crown'd,
+         The Marriage Articles next agreed,
+         And the Impostor _Virgin_ sooth'd to Bed;
+         The Am'rous _Bridegroom_ on the Wanton flies,
+         Who modestly his first Attempt denys;
+         Again he moves her, she denys again,
+         _Crys Lord I never shall endure a Man_:
+         But warmer grown, he rushes on the Bride,
+         And panting now, is but with Sighs deny'd,
+         She yields a little to dissemble more,
+         Knowing the part she'd acted once before:
+         Wwhile he good Man, so pleas'd with what he'as done,
+         Proclaims her Chastity to all the Town.
+
+
+                      _The Twelfth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Some are so fond, so blinded in their Choice,
+         That they are ravish'd with their beautious Prize;
+         In such a case the young unthinking Sot,
+         Boasts what a handsome Genteel Wife he'as got,
+         Doates on her Face, commends her Shape and Air,
+         And thinks her Virtuous beyond compare:
+         When all the time she plays her Pranks unknown,
+         And with her Gallant rambles up and down;
+         [*?]y, brings him home, while the poor Husband's sent
+         On some Fools Errand, she has her content:
+         At length he finds her out, but dare not speak,
+         But bears all calmly for his Honour's sake.
+
+
+                 _The Thirteenth Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         This Married to some Beauty of Renown,          }
+         Whose Business often keeps him out of Town;     }
+         But the good Woman cannot lie alone:            }
+         While the poor _Lawyer's_ stating o'er the Case,
+         She finds another to supply his Place;
+         And proving pregnant, reckons up the Time,
+         Lest the Sot Husband shou'd suspect her Crime.
+         She swallows Drugs and Poysons ev'ry day,
+         To bring the Child before its time away;
+         This she performs so often, and is Sick,
+         That he at length begins to smoak the Trick;
+         Next time he keeps account, and plains it is,
+         He swears point-blank the Child is none of his.
+
+
+                _The Fourteenth Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         The next a Widow thinks it best to Wed,
+         And takes the knowing Matron to his Bed,
+         A while he quenches her insatiate Fire,
+         But in a little times begins to tire,
+         The _Lady_ soon the difference can find,
+         And truly very plainly speaks her Mind,
+         She twits him of the good departed Man,
+         Whose like, she says, _She ne'er shall see again,
+         He never left me in a Morning so,
+         But took a parting Kiss before he'd go;
+         And get me some Good Thing for Breakfast too:
+         Well, he a dear kind Husband was to me,
+         But now my Days are spent in Misery._
+
+
+                 _The Fifteenth Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         Last, and not least of all these Comforts is,
+         The Man that's Wedded unto some Disease,
+         A peevish, crazy, and a sickly Wife,
+         The Burthen and the Nusance of his Life;
+         Her Bed, the meer resemblance of a Tomb,
+         And an _Apothecarys_ Shop her Room;
+         Coughing and Spitting all the Night she lies,
+         A very Antidote to Marriage Joys:
+         Yet the poor Man must bear with all these Ills,
+         Besides the Excessive Charge of Physick Bills,
+         A Nurse, fine Cordials, and a hundred things,
+         Until his Substance she to little brings,
+         Till may be she at length resigns to Death,
+         The only Comfort he cou'd hope on Earth.
+
+
+                                FINIS.
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
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+
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+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                  THE
+                        Batchelors _and_ Maids
+                                ANSWER
+
+                                TO THE
+
+                          _FIFTEEN COMFORTS_
+                                  OF
+                              MATRIMONY.
+
+                                 BEING
+
+           Real Encouragements for all Single Persons
+           of both Sexes to Marry as soon as ever they
+           can get Wives and Husbands, in order to avoid
+           the danger of leading Apes in Hell; with sutable
+           Directions for that purpose.
+
+                 _Dedicated to Married Men and Women._
+
+              _Licensed and Enter'd according to Order._
+
+             _LONDON_, Printed and Sold by _Henry Hills_,
+                in _Black-Fryars_, near the Water-side.
+
+
+
+
+             _The_ Batchelors _and_ Maids _Answer to the_
+                    Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the First Mock Comfort._
+
+       But why shou'd Marriage render Man undone?
+       When nothing's like it underneath the Sun.
+       True Pleasures in the Marriage-Bed alone,
+       Real Joys without it never yet was known.
+       The Charming Bliss in Wedlock chiefly lies,
+       A Single Life all Honest Men despise,
+       What greater Comfort can on Earth be found,
+       When two True Hearts are both together Crown'd.
+       All other Pleasures are but Pains to this,
+       A Married Couple only, finds the Bliss.
+       The Frowns of Fate, and other Worldly Cares,
+       Are daily lessen'd by divided Shares.
+       The mutual Love of Man and Wife dispense,
+       With all the Chances of dark Providence;
+       Nay, If in Prison he shou'd chance to lie,
+       A Loving Wife brings Comforts and Supply.
+       She pays him visits with Delight and Care,
+       And Loves him ne're the less for being there.
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Second Mock Comfort._
+
+       And why shou'd not a Man adore his Wife,
+       Since She's the only Comfort of his Life.
+       A Gift presented by the Gods above,
+       A lively Emblem of the Charms of Love.
+       All o're Divine, a Heaven, here below
+       Man's Paradice, where Joys in Plenty flow.
+       No Shame, but Honour does bless'd Wedlock Crown,
+       And ushers in both Glory and Renown.
+       Sweet pretty Babes, the Product of each Charm,
+       In Marriage-Bed protects us from all harm,
+       Their Innocence like Lambs and Doves appear,
+       Which make our Hearts and Minds quite void of Care.
+       No Sorrow can lay hold of Man or Wife,
+       Where Love and Virtue is the Rule of Life.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Third mock Comfort._
+
+       Oh! Monstrous Man, nay Beast, (I almost said)
+       What cursed Thoughts are got into thy Head?
+       To rail at those to whom thy Life is due,
+       No Mortal yet durst be so vile as you?
+       If whipping _Joan_ was here alive and stout,
+       You do deserve to be well whip'd about.
+       Ten thousand lashes shall adorn thy Bumb,
+       If ever such a whipping Lass should come.
+       'Tis strange a Woman shou'd be so envy'd,
+       Not only mock'd, but shamefully bely'd.
+       With bawdy Gossips, and the Lord knows what,
+       To Name a Child the Husband never got.
+       You call him Fool, and yet that Title claim,
+       And prove your self the Person you wou'd Name.
+       You know it is a Woman's due by Birth,
+       To Scold and Cry, next moment Joy and Mirth.
+       One minute smile, the very next a Frown,
+       Perhaps the next she knocks her Husband down.
+       But what does this to hinder higher Charms?
+       When Joys are fix'd between the Husband's Arms,
+       Such transports are out of the reach of thought,
+       Tis only known where Wedlock Bonds are wrought.
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Fourth Mock Comfort._
+
+       The Marriage-hater here is forc'd to own,
+       The many Comforts which doth Wedlock Crown.
+       But strives to mix it with such Cares and Toil,
+       As if curs'd Malice cou'd such Blessings spoil.
+       Makes Charges frightful on that very score,
+       As if Mankind should ne'er encrease no more;
+       Nay, _Atheist_-like, he makes it ten times worse,
+       And calls _God's Blessings_ nothing but a Curse:
+       Our Sons are Sots, and all our Daughters Whores,
+       Because we keep the Woolf just from the Doors:
+       Was ever Man so void of Sense and Shame,
+       As thus against all Reason to exclaim?
+       As if a Wife her Kindness to impart,
+       Shou'd teaze her Husband as to break his Heart:
+       This is such Stuff as ne'er was heard before,
+       But hope the like again shall see no more.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Fifth Mock Comfort._
+
+       I here agree with this, my Rhiming Foe,
+       And own 'tis Folly when the Case is so;
+       For whatsoe'er the cunning Jilt pretend
+       To her Old Husband, yet she'll have Her Friend;
+       She'll coax the Dotard when his Bags are full,
+       Yet even then graft _Horns_ upon his Skull,
+       Makes him a Beggar to enrich her _Cull_:
+       She seems most fond, till she gets all the _Pence_,
+       And then with Bag and Baggage marches thence;
+       She leaves the Fool without one single _Cross_,
+       To sit, lamenting for his fatal _Loss_.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Sixth Mock Comfort._
+
+       But here I differ from the _Poet's_ Thought,
+       Who says, A _Scold as even good for nought_;
+       For, like _Job's_ Wife, she will Man's Patience try,
+       And bring Repentance too, before he die:
+       Then who'd live single, if a Scolding Wife
+       Works such great Wonders in a Husband's Life?
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Seventh Mock Comfort._
+
+       No modest Woman will disdain her Spouse,
+       Because he seldom peeps into her House;
+       Since Age and Sickness doth the Sport prevent,
+       She'll exercise her Patience with Content:
+       For where all's gone, the _Queen_ must lose Her _Right_,
+       So must a Wife the Pleasure of the Night.
+       A Loving Woman, puts up those Defects,
+       And gives her Husband Honour and Respect;
+       Like Pious _Sarah_, serve him like a _Lord_;
+       Obeys in all things, which do's Peace afford:
+       Their Children too add Pleasure to their Lives!
+       Thus Men are Bless'd, who marry Virtuous Wives.
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Eighth Mock Comfort._
+
+       Why should not Females under Wedlock tyes,
+       Participate with what the Man Enjoys?
+       Man's Second-self must have her share in Mirth
+       A Freedom, which is right to her by Birth:
+       If _Fortune's_ Bounty has encreased her Store,
+       Her _Husband's_ Love to her shou'd be the more;
+       No Cost or Care too much for such a Wife,
+       Whose Vertuous Charms adds Pleasure to the Life:
+       Such _Comforts_ on a married Life depend,
+       There's nothing like a Loving Bosom-Friend.
+       If _Husband's_ Stock is wasted by mischance,
+       A careful Wife will soon the same advance.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Ninth Mock Comfort._
+
+       The Man more often is the cause of Loss,
+       By Drinking, Whoring or some Earthly Cross;
+       Then patient Wife, who yet must bear the Blame,
+       And hide the cause of his notorous Shame;
+       And many times the Sons and Daughters too,
+       Act just the same they see their Father do:
+       And therefore if they chance to go astray,
+       The Father pointed out the crooked way;
+       And yet the Crosses in a married Life
+       Are all imputed to a Tender Wife:
+       And notwithstanding all this knavish Art,
+       It sooner breaks the _Wife's_ than _Husband's_ Heart.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Tenth Mock Comfort._
+
+       I wonder where this spiteful Author finds
+       such wanton Women, with such lustful Minds;
+       Unless he speaks by knowledg of his own,
+       Whose Lewdness is the Scandal of the Town;
+       If so, he's not mistaken in his Mark,
+       For Joan's _as good as_ Lady _in the Dark_:
+       But 'tis unjust to tax all Womankind,
+       With Vices proper to one single mind.
+       If some are bad, I only this shall say,
+       I pity those that wed with such as they.
+
+
+                _Answer to the Eleventh Mock Comfort._
+
+       This by Experience, as I said before,
+       You speak because you married such a Wh----re;
+       The words themselves as plain, as plain can be
+       Describe your self, that you are only He,
+       The very Actions with your cheating Bride,
+       In lustful Sport, when you lay by her side;
+       How by degrees she did the Fool deceive
+       With fained Blushes make you then believe
+       Her Virgin Fort well fortify'd within,
+       Free from Attacks of such a pleasing Sin:
+       What e'er the Picture wants of being true,
+       Is, that it looks not so deform'd as you.
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Twelfth Mock Comfort._
+
+       Tho' some are blindly led, and others run,
+       And make both haste and speed to be undone;
+       This alters not the Case in any wise,
+       But that a Man sometimes may get a Prize,
+       If some be wanton in obscure Nookes,
+       And _Ape_ the _Saint_, by framing modest Looks;
+       Deceive the Husband, with her cunning Wiles,
+       And cheat his Senses with her feigned smiles,
+       These (I confess,) are hardships to be born,
+       And worse to think the Fore-head tip'd with Horn,
+       But still good Wives, if any such there be,
+       Are real Comforts of a high Degree.
+
+
+               _Answer to the Thirteenth Mock Comfort._
+
+       The Lawyer's Wife is brought in for her share,
+       To recompence her Loving Husband's care;
+       As he by Bribes hath Honest Men undone,
+       She gives to Knaves, what he might call his own.
+       But Drugs and Poysons to a married Wife,
+       I cannot understand it for my Life.
+       For she that has a Husband need not fear,
+       But all Suspicion soon will disappear.
+       No matter where or when the Child was got,
+       It always falls unto the Husband's Lot.
+
+
+               _Answer to the Fourteenth Mock Comfort._
+
+       'Tis true, a Widow always knows the best,
+       To judge those Joys, which some do call a Jest.
+       And if her Second Mate prove weak and dull,
+       With Sorrow then be sure her Heart is full.
+       And who can blame her, if she makes Complaint,
+       For that sweet Comfort to supply her want.
+       Well may she grieve at such a Cross as this,
+       For that one Fault makes all things go amiss.
+       If Husband wants what Widows Nature crave     }
+       He'd better be condemn'd to be a Slave,       }
+       Or make the Raging Sea his Watry Grave.       }
+       But if she finds her Pleasures to encrease,
+       Oh! then (my Husband) _how we live in Peace_.
+       She's then all Charms, no Comforts here below,
+       Are like what she and her dear Spouse do know.
+
+
+                _Answer to the Fifteenth Mock Comfort._
+
+       A Peevish Husband makes a peevish Wife,
+       And so brings Scandal on a Married Life.
+       No wonder then if Sickness and Disease,
+       Brought on by Crosses, doth the Body seize.
+       All this is owing to a hair-brain'd Man,
+       Whose base ill nature all the strife began.
+       Then why shou'd Women thus be stil'd a Curse?
+       When Man himself perhaps is ten times worse.
+       Perhaps you'll say this is proposterous,
+       In blaming others I my self expose.
+       I Answer thus, if it was not for shame,
+       I'd this same Minute quite disown the Name.
+       For Men like you, their Names do sound no more,
+       Than if you call'd an Honest Woman Whore.
+
+
+                                FINIS.
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                            ADVERTISEMENT.
+
+At the _Pastry-School_, over against the _Compter_ in _Shovel-Ally_ in
+_Wood-street_, near _Cheapside_; is Sold, a never failing Oyntment
+that Cures the _GOUT_, altho the Party be reduced to his Crutches,and
+that in two or three Days time; having often been found True by
+Experience, to the great Ease and Comfort of many: It also Cures
+_Rheumatick_ Pains. Likewise a Cure for the _Tooth-Ach_, which
+Infallibly Cures without Drawing.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                              The Fifteen
+                               COMFORTS
+                                  of
+                               Whoring,
+
+                                  OR,
+
+                    _The Pleasures of a Town-Life._
+
+
+                     Dedicated to the Youth of the
+                             present Age.
+
+
+         _By the Author of the Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony._
+
+
+                                LONDON
+                      Printed in the YEAR, 1706.
+
+
+
+
+                             The PREFACE.
+
+_I am in a little pain lest the Title shou'd give Offence to some,
+whom I am unwilling to disoblige; yet I hope be more Judicious, when
+they see the design will allow it both their Pardon and Approbation:
+for 'tis more than a little odds, had I call'd it the Fifteen Plagues
+of Whoring, whether the young Gentlemen most concerned in it, would
+have given themselves the trouble to peruse it. As they are Children
+in their Actions, they must be dealt with like Children, and have
+their Horn-books Gi[*?]ou the back. This is all the Apology I have to
+make; which I hope the Moral will explain, and supply all else that
+might be said upon that Head. Among all other Debaucheries, as the
+principal, and leading Vice, I shall begin with Whoring._
+
+
+
+
+                    The Fifteen Comforts of Whoring
+
+
+                    _The First Comfort of Whoring._
+
+        No sooner Youth throws off his Infant Plays,
+        The harmless Pastime of his happier Days
+        But past a Child, is still in Judgement so,
+        And studies first what he is not to know,
+        Pleasure and Sence his easie Soul entice,
+        Spurr'd forward by his Native Love to Vice:
+        A Mistress now his Fancy entertains,
+        And Youthful Vigour boils within his Brains.
+        The poor lost Maid he do's with Oaths intice;
+        And loads his Soul with twenty Thousand Lyes;
+        Promises Marriage, Love, a hundred things,
+        Till both himself and her, he to destruction brings.
+        At length he finds his falsity repaid,
+        And draws the Curse of Heaven on his Head.
+
+
+                   _The Second Comfort of Whoring._
+
+        By this some Lewder Harlot is Carrest,
+        Who plays the Tyrant in his Am'rous Breast;
+        The Charming Syren touches e'ery String,
+        To keep his busie Fancy on the Wing;
+        All by her whiles, she binds her Captive fast,
+        Sooths him at first, and bubbles him at last.
+        To feed her Pride, clandestine means he'll take,
+        Rob Friends, or Master; for the Harlot's sake,
+        Still to the greatest Ill's he do's descend,
+        And Ruin only; Ruin Seals his End.
+
+
+                 _The Third Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        What Nature has not done, a Harlot will,
+        (For sure Destruction is her boasted Skill:
+        One Scarce to the full Bloom of Life attain'd,
+        Before of Cramps and Aches he complains,
+        Curses the Jilt--looks pale and wan withal:
+        Wither'd like Fruit by their untimely fall,
+        Go's thro' a hated Course of nauseous Pills,
+        And spends a little thousand Pocky Bills:
+        Perhaps at length he do's get free from pain,
+        But the Effects on't all his Life remain.
+
+
+                 _The Fourth Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        Another hardly does escape so well,
+        From Purgatory he drops into Hell;
+        Where like a branded Sacrifice he comes,
+        And in the Flame the Harlot lit, consumes:
+        Of Buboes, Nodes, and Ulcers he complains,
+        Of Restless Days, and damn'd nocturnal Pains.
+        Nor less than into six Weeks Flux he goes:
+        Comes out a Shadow, pale and Meagre shews,
+        If Heaven spare that Ornament his Nose:
+        Thus all his Youthful Vigor's threwn away,
+        And e're his time he dwindles to decay.
+
+
+                  _The Fifth Comfort of a Town Life._
+
+        This married, settled in the Joys of Life,
+        A handsom Trade, and an endearing Wife;
+        Does yet a mind incontinent betray,
+        And for a Night of Pleasure dearly pay:
+        Having received a Favour from his Miss,
+        He kindly gives it to a Friend of his:
+        The Wife, (for that the Marriage Rites say still)
+        Must bear a part both of the Good or Ill.
+        She finds what pity 'tis she e'er had known,
+        Since for no Crime, nor Pleasure of her own,
+        Reveals it to him, knowing not at first,
+        What might the Cause be--tho' she fear'd the worst.
+        He strives to pacifie her twenty ways
+        Blushes--or wou'd do if he'd any Grace.
+        Tells Her the truth in Penetential strain,
+        And vows he'll never do the like again,
+        She weeps, forgives him all--but must endure,
+        The manner, and the Charges of a Cure;
+        Where One in twenty scarce so perfect be,
+        But that they leave it to Posterity.
+
+
+                  _The Sixth Comfort of a Town Life._
+
+        Or where they 'scape the plagues of _Pox_ and _Pills_,
+        The Sin is liable to fifty Ills,
+        Of equal Danger, tho' a diff'rent Cure,
+        As he that dreading Claps wou'd Sin secure;
+        For soon the pliant Wretch he has beguil'd
+        Hath to his Charge and wonder prove with Child:
+        At which, 'tmay properly be said a Man,
+        Leaps from the Fire to the Frying-pan,
+        This for his Reputation sake must be reveal'd
+        When Claps are only as a Jest reveal'd
+        She's now Remov'd--Deliver'd--and the Nurse;
+        Comes thick and threefold to Exhaust his Purse;
+        A blessed Life that woful Mortal bears,
+        With _Nurse_ and _Child_, and _Mother_ in his Ears.
+        Arm'd with a Thousand things that must be had,
+        Till they have drein'd him poor and made him mad:
+        What better (had he been convin'd before,)
+        He had Transgress'd with some Obedient Whore.
+
+
+                _The Seventh Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        Another that he may his Joys secure,
+        Turns _Limbetham_ and keep some Gaudy whore,
+        Thinks her his own--when Satan knows her his mind,
+        Is like her Body not to be confin'd,
+        As constant as the Moon, she plays her part,
+        And like a Viper preys upon his Heart:
+        Draws him so poor, till like her Slaves,
+        Which she bestows on some smart Fop she loves,
+        For this is with 'em a perpetual Rule,
+        They never Love the Person that they fool,
+        This he perceives not till it is too late,
+        Till Ruined in his Person and Estate.
+        And then good Night, when all his money's gone,
+        Miss leaves him too, to ply about the Town.
+
+
+                 _The Eighth Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        But above all--if't be within thy Power,
+        Oh Fate! to Curse me any mortal more,
+        Let him be him that does so wretched prove,
+        To be with some Intriging Jilt in Love:
+        Nay, tho' in part to mollifie his pain,
+        We'll say the Harlot chance to Love again?
+        I mean such Love as Lewdness can impart,
+        Bred in the Blood--but never in the Heart.
+        With softning presents he would Cure her mind,
+        To him, and only to him, to be Kind.
+        But were the _Indies_ all within his Pow'r
+        To give, he would but lavish all his Store,
+        He might confine the Sea, as soon as her.
+        What then (since Love no Rival will submit)
+        Must he indure that with this plague do's meet:
+        When every Thought is Death and Discontent
+        To know, what he wants power to prevent,
+        The case can only this conclusion have,
+        He's twice more wretched than a Galley-slave.
+
+
+                 _The Ninth Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        This has some Jilt for a long time sustain'd,
+        Who has Imperious o'er his Pocket reign'd;
+        At length grown weary of so loose a Life,
+        Or for some other Cause, he takes a wife:
+        The Jilt now like a Fury flings and tears,
+        Ten thousand Oaths to be reveng'd she swears:
+        Threatens to come before his very Door,
+        For Whores are plagues that never give you o'er:
+        _There in the open Street to act the Scene,
+        And let the World know what a Spark he's been:
+        This; may be some fair promises prevents,
+        If constantly attended with the pence;
+        For Whores and Fidlers this one Rule advance,
+        Of old; no longer Pipe, no longer Dance.
+        But if the Promis'd Pension he withdraws,
+        The Fury then again Exerts her Claws:
+        Thus he a charge, continual intails,
+        Besides the Curse, the Noise, and all things else;_
+
+
+                  The Tenth Pleasure of a Town Life,
+
+        _Another Harlot works by various means,
+        And acts a Jilt's true part behind the Scenes,
+        [*?]nds the kind Bubble of a pliant Size,
+        And Spreads a subtle Net to catch her Prize,
+        With greater ease to drive him in the same,
+        She first obtains his Residence, and Name,
+        Two useful Perquisites for her design;
+        The Shallow Easie Fop to undermine;
+        A Mesiage next she sends to let him know,
+        Convey'd by some such useful Rogue as R----w;
+        That she's with Child--and by the Love she bore,
+        It must be him--for she was never so before.
+        Which he with wonderful Surprize receives,
+        And for the present some few Guineas gives,
+        Thus he's impos'd on by a wretched Cheat,
+        And er'e he finds it out; pays dearly for his Wit._
+
+
+                 The Eleventh Pleasure of a Town Life.
+
+        _Nor this alone Debauch'ry comprehends,
+        The forward Age to other vice descends,
+        And Youth e're he'as attain'd good Sence to think,
+        Addicts himself with Pride, to swear and drink:
+        [*?]'s Rules Immoral from Example take,
+        And e're he's turn'd of fifteen, turns a Rake:
+        [*?]ots in Sin--(nothing that's Lewd shall scape
+        And on his Virgin Health commits a Rape,
+        Forsaking Reason--grows to Vice a Slave,
+        And e'r he's Thirty drops into his Grave._
+
+
+                  The Twelfth Plague of a Town Life,
+
+        _Another has a better Progress made,
+        And binds himself Apprentice to the Trade;
+        A parboyl'd Sot, without one Spark of Grace,
+        Whose nightly Sins are number'd on his Face:
+        Which with the Rags upon his back make out,
+        The very Arms and Ensigns of a Sot:
+        Who like a Rat into Some Corner goes,
+        And dies Unpittied both by Friends and Foes._
+
+
+                The Thirteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.
+
+        _What do's that Man deserve? to whom his Fate;
+        Has given an ample Stock or an Estate?
+        (That has, perhaps, besides a tender Wife;
+        Yet into Riot and Excess do's fall,
+        And in debauchery consumes it all?
+        And to his Sure Destruction makes such hast;
+        He do's in Body, with his Substance waste:
+        Lives till he want what he had misemply'd
+        And is like one that God had curs'd, Destroy'd._
+
+
+                The Fourteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.
+
+        _But say that this a Constitution has,
+        Firm and unshaken as a pile of Brass
+        Yet who'd Endure the Palsies, aching Heads?
+        The pains, the Qualms, that nightly Drinking breeds?
+        Perpetual disorder draggs him on,
+        Business Neglected, and himself Undone,
+        A Wretched Life he spends till threescore Years,
+        And then the Fruits of Drunkeness appears._
+
+
+                The Fifteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.
+
+        Satyr and couculde--and sum the Evils up,
+        Shew the great wonder how the Land shou'd 'scape,
+        From Fires, Famines, Pestilence and Rage,
+        To crush so vile, so proffligate an Age?
+        For let the Church be Empty as it will,
+        You'll see the Play-house, and the Taverns fill:
+        Whole Afternoons, whole Nights they'll Squander there,
+        Yet can't Spare one poor Minute on't for Pray'r,
+        This is the Sum of a Licentious Town,
+        Where Lewdness is into Example grown.
+
+
+                                FINIS.
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                  THE
+                           Fifteen Comforts
+                                  OF
+                              Cuckoldom.
+
+
+           _Written by a noted Cuckold in the_ New-Exchange
+                           _in the_ Strand.
+
+
+                       Printed in the Year 1706.
+
+
+
+
+                            To the Reader.
+
+_The Town being diverted of late with a great many Comforts, several
+of the Gentlemen and others of the cornuted Society belonging to
+_Horn-Fair_ not thinking those Comforts compleat without them of
+Cuckoldom, they requested me to undertake the Performance thereof, as
+having had some experience for many Years in Wives cokesing their
+Husbands in the very Moment they design'd to put a pair of Antlers on
+their Heads for fear of being gor'd by their Neighbours; whilst other
+good Wives are as often Picking their Husband's Pockets to pay now and
+then for a By-Blow: I have experienced those kind Wives too who are
+commonly upon the religious Point of going to Lectures when alas they
+had no other Business at Church than to meet their Gallants, who
+presently coaches 'em, because they dearly love Jilting. But for
+Brevity passing the several Dispositions of Men's Wives, as such as
+are Melancholly many Times for a Delay or Defeat, whilst others are
+preparing to make their Markets at the Play-house or Spring-Garden; or
+else to the Bath, when Bathing is the least part of their Errand, I
+shall draw to the Comforts which we enjoy by our Wives good Nature to
+others, which to their Fancies is sweet as Muskadine and Eggs._
+
+
+
+
+                       The Fifteen Comforts, &c.
+
+
+                   _The first Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        As I last Night in Bed lay Snoring,
+        I sweetly dreamt of Drinking and of Whoring,
+        Which waking me from a most pleasant Sleep,
+        To my dear Wife I very close did creep,
+        And offering to give her what I shou'd,
+        Quoth she, you Fumbler you can do no good,
+        Give me the Man that never claps his Wings,
+        But always Life and Courage with him brings,
+        'Tis such an one wou'd please; but as for you
+        If Night and Morning some small matter do;
+        You think you've done your due Benevolence,
+        When I with thrice your Labour can dispence.
+        This Reprimand my Courage soon did cool,
+        And fearing Combing with a Three-Legg'd-Stool;
+        I very fairly went to sleep again,
+        And left her of my Manhood to complain.
+
+
+                  _The Second Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        No sooner had I chang'd my single Life,
+        And had confin'd my Carcass to a Wife;
+        But she was always Gadding up and down,
+        To take the various Pleasures of the Town;
+        Howe're I only reckon'd this to be,
+        The airy Frisks of her Minority,
+        Till shortly finding and old Hag wou'd pay
+        Her Visits oft, and take her Day by Day
+        [*?]oad, indeed this gave me some Mistrust,
+        That this old weather beaten Devil must
+        Be some Procurer, and resolv'd to watch
+        Their Waters, where shoul'd I the Bitches catch,
+        But in a Bowdy-house in _Milford-lane_?
+        So going in a Passion home again,
+        At twelve at Night my Doxie likewise came,
+        Whom I in mod'rate Terms began to blame;
+        Telling her that old Witch with whom she went,
+        Abroad a Days by Rogues was only sent
+        About to Wheedle young and tender Maids
+        To Ruine, till they turned common Jades.
+        _You Lie_, reply'd my hopeful graceless Dear,
+        _I'll have you know, I'll never sin in fear,
+        Besides for she of whom you think, Amiss,
+        That sweet obliging Gentlewoman is
+        A tender-hearted Bawd that ne'er made Whore,
+        But ever us'd such as were broke before._
+        Now finding her so bad at Seventeen,
+        Thinks I by that time she has Thirty seen,
+        She'll be a Whore in Grain; but by good hap,
+        She dy'd within a year of Pox and Clap.
+
+
+                   _The third Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        It was my Fortune to be joyn'd to one,
+        As pretty as was shined on by the Sun;
+        For on my word her Eyes were full and gray,
+        With ruddy Lips, round Cheeks, her Forehead lay
+        Archt like a snowie Bank, which did uphold
+        Her natvie Tresses, that did shine like Gold;
+        Her azure Veins, which with a well sharp'd Nose,
+        Her whiter Neck, broad Shoulders to compose:
+        A slender Waste, a Body strait and Tall,
+        With Swan-like Breasts, long Hands, and Fingers small,
+        Her Ivory Knees, her Legs were neat and clean,
+        A Swelling Calf, with Ancles round and lean,
+        Her Insteps thin, short Heels, with even Toes,
+        A Sole most strait, proportion'd Feet, she goes
+        With modest Grace; but yet her Company,
+        Did not a Month enjoy, before that I
+        Was Prest for Sea, and being on the Main,
+        For thirty Months I then return'd again,
+        Where finding in my absence that my Wife
+        Three brats had got, a most unchaste Life
+        Both Day and Night I led the lech'rous Whore;
+        Who seeing how I Curst, and Bann'd, and Swore,
+        A Bag or two she shew'd me cramn'd with Gold,
+        Which Treasure I no sooner did behold,
+        But then I Kist my loving Wife and leapt,
+        For very Gladness that my Horns were Tipt.
+
+
+                  _The fourth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        Above a Year or two I always thought
+        My Wife so good that she cou'd not be naught,
+        Till one Night coming home I caught a Spark
+        Sat in my Parlor by her in the Dark,
+        In mighty Pet I call'd for Candles strait,
+        Doubting that I poor Fool was come too late:
+        T'avert the Burthen which is made to grow
+        On such who enters into Cuckolds Row.
+        Hower'e as I was thinking of the best,
+        And as I nothing saw contented rest,
+        My am'rous Wife's Gallant, before he went,
+        Did shew enough t'encrease my Discontent
+        For he wou'd slily pull her Petticoat,
+        Nod, Wink, and put into her Hand a Note,
+        Whisper her in the Ear, or touch her Foot
+        With many other private Signs to boot,
+        All which confirm'd my Jealousie the more,
+        And made me think 'em to be Rogue and Whore,
+        But as I knew my Wife a bawling Slut,
+        My Horns into my Pocket did I put
+        For Quietness, which yet I seldom had,
+        So I thro' Cuckoldom run really Mad.
+
+
+                   _The fifth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        When I poor I unto a Wife was bound,
+        I wish I had been Bury'd under Ground,
+        For to my Grief I found her both before
+        And after Marriage too to be a Whore.
+        But when I found the Beast of such a Breed,
+        I soldier turn'd, and with a Baw'd agreed
+        To let her out at half a Crown a Week
+        Who undertook she shou'd not be too seek;
+        For Custom, but said, she must for her pains,
+        From th' insatiate Whore have double Gains.
+
+
+                   _The Sixth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        Finding my Wife by Whoring nothing get,
+        But to maintain her Sparks ran me in Debt;
+        Her Whoring gratis made me really vext,
+        So Shop I shut, and fled to _Holland_ next.
+
+
+                  _The Seventh Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        While I was but into the Country gone,
+        To give some Chapmen there the gentle Dun
+        Mean time a Rubbers she with some had play'd,
+        And in the Powd'ring Tub was quickly laid,
+        Unknown to me, and had been secret still,
+        But that the Surgeon bringing in his Bill
+        When I came Home, the Murder so came out,
+        And still my Wife is Whore enough I doubt.
+
+
+                  _The Eighth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        A sordid Lecher coming very old
+        To tempt my Spouse with Silver and with Gold,
+        She told me of't, and said, she cou'd not fawn,
+        On him, or's Gold, to lay her Soul in pawn.
+        By this I thought her Honest, till my maid
+        Inform'd me shortly what Lew'd Tricks she play
+        I Twitted then my Wife's Hypocrisie,
+        Who Impudently did Reply to me;
+        Old Flesh she Loath'd, as having in it left
+        No Gravy, and of all it's Juice bereft,
+        But if the Flesh was Young and to her mind,
+        She'd to one Dish would never be confin'd.
+
+
+                   _The Ninth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        By my Dear Wife, in turning up her Tail
+        To bear the Threshing of her Gallant's Frail,
+        A Groat (which always is a Cuckold's Fee)
+        Under the Candlestick I've laid for me;
+        Besides good Peck and Booze, so till she's Dead,
+        She may and will Whore on to get me Bread.
+
+
+                   _The Tenth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        As Strangers flatter'd with deceitful Snow,
+        Fall in a Deadly Pit they do not know,
+        So was I hamper'd in a Marriage Noose,
+        In Marrying one that did frequent the Stews,
+        As well as Cuckold me at Home; but she
+        Transacting Whoredom with great Secresie
+        Like other Neighbours, to avoid the Name
+        Of Cuckold, I as private hid her shame.
+
+
+                 _The Eleventh Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        When I found Cuckolds to Encrease apace,
+        I Marry'd one with such an Ugly Face
+        That one wou'd thought the Devil wou'd but grotch
+        So foul a Figure as my Wife to touch;
+        Yet being at a Friendly Club one Night,
+        A Raskal came and Cuckol'd me for spight.
+
+
+                  _The Twelfth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        What signifies a Man to fret and fume,
+        Till Grief and Sorrow makes his Flesh consume
+        Because his Wife in Actions may be light
+        And to his Face will horn him Day and Night;
+        This Comfort may alleviate his Woe,
+        That Cuckold's without doubt to Heaven go.
+
+
+                _The Thirteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        If it's my Fate (I oftentimes would cry)
+        To have a Wife that will play wantonly,
+        I soon wou'd tame her, or at least I shou'd
+        Be Hang'd for her but I wou'd make her good.
+        But faith it is my Luck to light upon
+        Such Ware, that will a _Caterwoulling_ run,
+        And cannot help it, for to have her full
+        Of sport, she's run away a Soldiers Trull.
+
+
+                _The Fourteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        When at _Horn-Fair_ I see how ev'ry Year
+        Whole droves of Cuckold's thither do appear
+        The very sight thereof wou'd make one swear
+        That none but Cuckolds in the Nation were;
+        Especially if those who are not known,
+        For Cuckolds too the Title wou'd but own,
+        And such as are not summon'd would appear,
+        In those Accoutrements we ought to wear,
+        Which are our Horns, a Pick Axe and a Spade,
+        That Paths may for our Wives be even laid.
+
+
+                 _The Fifteenth Comfort of Cuckledom._
+
+        If that our wives will tick their Souls on Sin,
+        Tis vain to make about their Ears a din,
+        For that exasperates their will the more,
+        And where in private may in publick Whore;
+        So then the Scandal coming to all Ears,
+        Each Neighbour will not only fling his Jeers
+        Upon us, but the Boys will hoot it too,
+        And point their Fingers at us where we go,
+        As if we were not come of human Blood,
+        Because they do perceive we've Horns to bud;
+        But to avoid so base and curst a Life,
+        The only way's to Live without a wife.
+
+
+                                FINIS.
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                  THE
+                           Fifteen COMFORTS
+                                 OF A
+                             Wanton Wife:
+
+                                  OR,
+
+                       _The_ FOOL _Well Fitted._
+
+                  _Dedicated to the_ London-Cuckolds.
+
+                               _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 Lust,
+        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 Hell, with trembling and with fear,
+        Tho' 'twas a Vice he seldom cou'd forbear.
+        So she derides the thing she fancies best,
+        And Damns 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 Lustful 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 lustful 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 Whores, 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 Whore.
+
+
+                         _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 Lustful Knave,
+        And makes her Spouse a Cuckold and a Slave.
+
+
+                         _The Tenth Comfort._
+
+        The Sport's still carry'd on, but under-hand,
+        She seems the Chastest Wife in all the Land,
+        Oh! how she blames her self for former Deeds,
+        And says her Heart within with Sorrow bleeds.
+        Which he believes, because she sheds some Tears,
+        And frees his Mind from Sorrow grief and Cares.
+        She Apes the Saint, by framing Modest Look,
+        Tho' perfect Devil in a Private Nook.
+        Deceives her Husband with her cunning Wiles,
+        And Cheats his Scenses with her feigned Smiles.
+
+
+                        _The Eleventh Comfort._
+
+        Extreamly fond the Cuckold hugs his Choice,
+        Well pleas'd to think the Whore has left her Vice,
+        Gives her fine Cloaths, and Money what she craves,
+        Which she as freely spends on Rogues and Knaves.
+        Her private Stallion now will not suffice,
+        Her Lust encreases as her Favours rise,
+        New Faces Charm the roving Brimstone Jilt,
+        And with each Beau she acts new fancy'd Guilt.
+        When time and place her wickedness denies,
+        She feeds her thoughts with her lascivious eyes.
+
+
+                        _The Twelfth Comfort._
+
+        Yet all this while the Husband thinks his Wife
+        Is Penitent, and leads a Virtuous Life.
+        Because she fawns and flatters Night and Day,
+        He can't believe she'll ever go astray.
+        No Cost he spares to satisfie her Pride,            }
+        But makes her equal with the loftiest Bride,        }
+        While Watch of Gold hangs dangling by her side.     }
+        He strains his Pocket to maintain her high,
+        And freely let's his Gold and Silver fly.
+        Nay, sells his Lands, her Honour to defend,
+        And thus is ruin'd by his Bosom Friend.
+
+
+                       _The Thirteenth Comfort._
+
+        She thus goes on and spends his Wealth so fast,
+        That he begins to think of what is past.
+        Takes notice of her Visits out of Town,
+        And wonders where she's Coach'd so up and down,
+        Enquires of _John_ (who now seems Jealous too)
+        And asks him what he thinks his Wife will do.
+        The Servant's vext, but dares not yet disclose,
+        Not half the Truth of what he really knows.
+        Yet being willing something to impart,
+        Declares he's very sorry at his Heart.
+        To think how much she daily spends in Waste,
+        And adds, he doubts, she is not over Chaste.
+        But shak'd his Head, as if 'twas spoke in jest.
+        And left his Master to find out the rest.
+
+
+                       _The Fourteenth Comfort._
+
+        The Matter having wisely took the hint,
+        Begins to fear there may be something in't.
+        But still unwilling, to expose her shame,
+        He is resolved to tell her of the same.
+        Next Night he took occasion thus to say,
+        _My Dear, pray tell me, where you've been to Day_.
+        I hope (says she) you'll not be Jealous now,
+        D'ye think I'll damn my self to break my Vow?
+        I'd have you know I scorn the thing you fear,
+        Of such foul Deeds my Conscience now is clear.
+        But this I tell you for your further ease,
+        Where I have been, I'll go when e'er I please.
+        Do you think I'll be kept in like a Drone,
+        While others reap the Pleasures of the Town.
+        No Faith, I'll never yield to such hard Fate.
+        To be confin'd; is what I always hate.
+        The Honest Husband hearing what she said.
+        He stood amaz'd, but yet no Answer made.
+        He plainly saw his Ruin coming on,
+        His own Disgrace, and all his Money gone.
+        He now believes what he wou'd not before,      }
+        His Pious Wife is still a Brimstone Whore,     }
+        Who made him Cuckold, and confounded Poor.     }
+
+
+                       _The Fifteenth Comfort._
+
+        Thus wanton Wives are Plagues beyond compare,
+        The Devil's Nets, poor Mankind to ensnare.
+        His Traps to catch a Heedless Sinner in,
+        His Instruments to tempt a Saint to Sin.
+        His curst Decoys to bring Destruction on,
+        And make a Man despair when all is gone.
+        His Factors here on Earth, to Trade in Vice,
+        His Catch-poles to betray us in a trice.
+        His Vermine to consume our very Food;
+        His Leeches to suck out our Precious Blood.
+        His Wolves in Sheeps Apparrel to us sent,
+        To Rob and Spoil us of our true content.
+        His Toads to Poison Soul and Bodies too.
+        And send to Hell more than's the Devil's due.
+
+
+                               _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony:
+Responses from Men, by Various
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13971 ***
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13971 ***</div>
+
+<p>[Transcriber's Note: The following was proofread from what appear to
+be scans of photocopies of a reproduction of the original text. On top
+of the original's battered type-face and archaic spellings, this
+preparer, and the proofreaders before him, have had to contend with
+dirty or faded images and missing margins. We have made our best
+guesses as to the missing letters, but in some cases we were stymied;
+those few places are marked with [*?]. In addition, the most obvious
+printer's mistakes (transposed, missing, obviously incorrect, and even
+upside-down letters) have been corrected.]<br /><br /></p>
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+<h1>Fifteen Comforts</h1>
+<h2>OF</h2>
+<h1>MATRIMONY.</h1>
+<h3>OR,</h3>
+<h3><span style="font-size: larger">Looking glass for all Those who</span><br />
+have Enter'd in that Holy and Comfortable State.<br />
+herein are sum'd up all those Blessings that attend<br />
+a Married Life.</h3>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Dedicated to Batchelors and Widdowers.</i></p>
+<hr />
+<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt="Asterisk pile"/></div>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>London.</i> Printed in the Year, 1706.<br /><br /></p>
+
+<h2>The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.</h2>
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony">
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The First Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Happy were Man, when born as free as Air,<br />
+Did he that freedom as he ought, prefer;<br />
+But the first Thing he sets his Heart upon,<br />
+Is to be Married, and to be undone:<br />
+On some young <i>Girl</i> he casts his wanton Eyes,<br />
+And wooes her with fine Complements and Toys.<br />
+But that's not all&mdash;he grows in Love at last,<br />
+And is impatient till those Joys he taste:<br />
+Nor do's the wishing Virgin disagree,<br />
+In what she longs to taste as well as he;<br />
+Married they are&mdash;no Couple for a while<br />
+Enjoy such Pleasure, Fortune seems to smile:<br />
+But all's a Dream, from which in time they wake,<br />
+And now their Breasts of other Cares partake:<br />
+She grows true Woman, sullen, proud, and high,<br />
+Complains he keeps her not accordingly,<br />
+To what she brought&mdash;wants This rich Thing, and That<br />
+Until she runs him o'er Head and Ears in Debt,<br />
+That in a Gaol he's forc'd to end his Life,<br />
+The first great Comfort flowing from a Wife.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Second Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another that has got a Handsome Wife,<br />
+Makes her the only Heaven of his Life;<br />
+Keeps her Extravagantly, Fine and Gay,<br />
+And never thinks she makes too much away;<br />
+The <i>Treats</i> and <i>Balls</i> she is invited to,<br />
+And he good Man, consents that she shall go:<br />
+Believes her Company is much desired,<br />
+And's proud to think she shou'd be so admired:<br />
+Until at length, by chance he finds the Truth,<br />
+And catches her with some enamour'd Youth:<br />
+Surpriz'd&mdash;but dare not make the Matter known,<br />
+Conceals her Shame, that he may hide his own;<br />
+He ever after spends an anxious Life,<br />
+Heavy his Sorrow, and as Light his Wife.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Third Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Scarce has another three full Moons beguil'd,<br />
+But that his forward Spouse has prov'd with Child,<br />
+And now begins the drugery of Life,<br />
+Lo! the vast Comforts of a Breeding Wife,<br />
+Now she's grown Squeamish, such ado is kept,<br />
+She e'en as peevish as an <i>Ape</i> new whipt,<br />
+She pukes and whines, do's nothing but complain,<br />
+And vows she'll never know the like again;<br />
+But 'tis as Children promise to be good,<br />
+Only remember'd while they feel the Rod.<br />
+And now the look'd for time approaches nigh,<br />
+And you've a thousand several Things to buy,<br />
+The Twi-lights, Blankets, and the Lord knows what,<br />
+To keep the Child, perhaps he never got,<br />
+A noise of Bawdy Gossips in his Ears,<br />
+Until his House like <i>Billings gate</i> appears,<br />
+Thus amply curst, he grows discreetly dull,<br />
+And from a Man of Sence, becomes a Fool.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fourth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">One that so fast in <i>Hymens</i> Net appears,<br />
+He has been strugling in't near twenty Years:<br />
+With Care and Toil to propagate his Store,<br />
+Able to keep the Wolf just from the Door;<br />
+As num'rous Offspring round his Table spread;<br />
+Daughters for Marriage fit, and Sons for Trades,<br />
+Is Blest with Comforts of the Marriage Bed.<br />
+Charges encreasing daily, and the thought<br />
+Where to get Money to dispose 'em out?<br />
+Or then perhaps he feels the greater Curse,<br />
+The Sons turn Sots, or Fools, the Daughters worse;<br />
+The Wife still teezing him to do his part,<br />
+Until he has enough to break his Heart.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fifth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">But the least pitied is your Aged Ass,<br />
+Who tho full Sixty, wou'd for Forty pass:<br />
+And that he may be sure a Crop to have,<br />
+And carry <i>Horns</i> fresh budding to his Grave,<br />
+On one of Twenty, blooming as a Rose,<br />
+His dry and wither'd Carkass he bestows:<br />
+She jilts, intrigues, and plays upon him still,<br />
+Keeps her Gallants, and Rambles at her Will;<br />
+Do's nothing but her Pride and Pleasure mind,<br />
+And throws his Gold like Chaff before the Wind;<br />
+Until at length she beggars the old Slave,<br />
+And brings his Gray-Hairs with Sorrow to the Grave.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Sixth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The next in course is he that weds a Shrew;<br />
+One that will talk, and wear the Breeches too;<br />
+Governs, insults, do's what e'er she thinks fit,<br />
+And he good Man, must to her Will submit;<br />
+Mannages all Affairs at home, abroad,<br />
+While he a Cypher seems, and stands for naught;<br />
+When e'er he speaks, she snaps him, and crys,<br />
+<i>Pray hold your Tongue, who was't made you so wife?<br />
+You will be prating, though you nothing know:</i><br />
+This he must bear, and be contented too,<br />
+See his Friends slighted, and must silent be,<br />
+Till Death shall from the Torment set him free.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Seventh Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another that has liv'd some Years in Peace,<br />
+A wedded Life&mdash;do's now in strength decrease,<br />
+Nor able is to satisfie that Debt,<br />
+Which Marriage claims, and Women still expect,<br />
+Wherefore she now withdraws her Love and Care,<br />
+Reviles, and twits him of his Slights to her;<br />
+Makes it a daily Quarrel, flings and throws,<br />
+And Peace is now a Stranger to his House;<br />
+Nay, even his Servants, and his Children too,<br />
+E'en act the same they see the Mother do,<br />
+While he declining, and consumptive sits,<br />
+Bears all with patience, and to all submits.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Eighth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another <i>Lady</i>, nicer bred and born,<br />
+Makes Huswif'ry, and Providence her Scorn<br />
+Her Maid and she must to the <i>Wells</i> repair,<br />
+She is not well, and goes to take the Air:<br />
+The House to Servants she entrusts at home,<br />
+And down on <i>Saturday</i> her Spouse must come,<br />
+And with him something very Costly bring,<br />
+Or Treat her there with some nice pretty thing,<br />
+She brought a Fortune, and it must be so,<br />
+But home to Rack and Ruin all do's go,<br />
+He sums his Gains, and finds it will not do;<br />
+In that for fifteen hundred pound she brought,<br />
+He'd better had a Huswife in her Smock.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Ninth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another that with Prudence, and with Cares,<br />
+Has mannag'd well his Family Affairs,<br />
+Govern'd his Wife and Children with that ease,<br />
+Which always kept the Family in peace;<br />
+His sons and Daughters educated so,<br />
+None better bred, none cou'd gentiler go:<br />
+The Sons are now set up to drive their Trade,<br />
+The daughters married, and their Fortunes paid.<br />
+One Son runs out, another takes ill ways,<br />
+For which their Father's Pocket always pays;<br />
+The Daughter's Husband breaks, and she must come<br />
+And live a burthen on him again at home;<br />
+Until the daily Cares that they impart,<br />
+Break first his Substance, and then break his Heart.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Tenth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">One thinking to encrease the Joys of Life,<br />
+Marries a Beautiful young Buxom Wife;<br />
+But soon he finds himself grow cloy'd and weak,<br />
+Nor can he give her half those Joys she'd take,<br />
+He now Consumptive, Pale and Meagre grows,<br />
+While she complaining to her Parents goes;<br />
+Says <i>she can't Love him, such a one as he.</i><br />
+And now desires she may live sep'rately.<br />
+The poor fond Parents to him trudge in haste,<br />
+And reprimand him soundly for what's past.<br />
+He knows no Cause&mdash;Nor thinks he is to blame,<br />
+They tell him plainly she shall live with them,<br />
+And he allow her what is fit to have,<br />
+Which he must yield to if he'll quiet have.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Eleventh Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another has begun before her Time,<br />
+Tasted those joys&mdash;but still conceal'd her Crime<br />
+And now her Parents thinks her fit to Wed,<br />
+(The Man that has her's finely brought to Bed,)<br />
+Some hopeful Youth of Equal Worth is found,<br />
+And soon his Suit with glad Success is crown'd,<br />
+The Marriage Articles next agreed,<br />
+And the Impostor <i>Virgin</i> sooth'd to Bed;<br />
+The Am'rous <i>Bridegroom</i> on the Wanton flies,<br />
+Who modestly his first Attempt denys;<br />
+Again he moves her, she denys again,<br />
+<i>Crys Lord I never shall endure a Man</i>:<br />
+But warmer grown, he rushes on the Bride,<br />
+And panting now, is but with Sighs deny'd,<br />
+She yields a little to dissemble more,<br />
+Knowing the part she'd acted once before:<br />
+Wwhile he good Man, so pleas'd with what he'as done,<br />
+Proclaims her Chastity to all the Town.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Twelfth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Some are so fond, so blinded in their Choice,<br />
+That they are ravish'd with their beautious Prize;<br />
+In such a case the young unthinking Sot,<br />
+Boasts what a handsome Genteel Wife he'as got,<br />
+Doates on her Face, commends her Shape and Air,<br />
+And thinks her Virtuous beyond compare:<br />
+When all the time she plays her Pranks unknown,<br />
+And with her Gallant rambles up and down;<br />
+[*?]y, brings him home, while the poor Husband's sent<br />
+On some Fools Errand, she has her content:<br />
+At length he finds her out, but dare not speak,<br />
+But bears all calmly for his Honour's sake.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Thirteenth Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>This Married to some Beauty of Renown,<br />
+Whose Business often keeps him out of Town;<br />
+But the good Woman cannot lie alone:<br />
+While the poor <i>Lawyer's</i> stating o'er the Case,<br />
+She finds another to supply his Place;<br />
+And proving pregnant, reckons up the Time,<br />
+Lest the Sot Husband shou'd suspect her Crime.<br />
+She swallows Drugs and Poysons ev'ry day,<br />
+To bring the Child before its time away;<br />
+This she performs so often, and is Sick,<br />
+That he at length begins to smoak the Trick;<br />
+Next time he keeps account, and plains it is,<br />
+He swears point-blank the Child is none of his.<br /><br /></td>
+<td style="vertical-align: top;">}<br />
+}<br />
+}<br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fourteenth Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The next a Widow thinks it best to Wed,<br />
+And takes the knowing Matron to his Bed,<br />
+A while he quenches her insatiate Fire,<br />
+But in a little times begins to tire,<br />
+The <i>Lady</i> soon the difference can find,<br />
+And truly very plainly speaks her Mind,<br />
+She twits him of the good departed Man,<br />
+Whose like, she says, <i>She ne'er shall see again,<br />
+He never left me in a Morning so,<br />
+But took a parting Kiss before he'd go;<br />
+And get me some Good Thing for Breakfast too:<br />
+Well, he a dear kind Husband was to me,<br />
+But now my Days are spent in Misery.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fifteenth Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Last, and not least of all these Comforts is,<br />
+The Man that's Wedded unto some Disease,<br />
+A peevish, crazy, and a sickly Wife,<br />
+The Burthen and the Nusance of his Life;<br />
+Her Bed, the meer resemblance of a Tomb,<br />
+And an <i>Apothecarys</i> Shop her Room;<br />
+Coughing and Spitting all the Night she lies,<br />
+A very Antidote to Marriage Joys:<br />
+Yet the poor Man must bear with all these Ills,<br />
+Besides the Excessive Charge of Physick Bills,<br />
+A Nurse, fine Cordials, and a hundred things,<br />
+Until his Substance she to little brings,<br />
+Till may be she at length resigns to Death,<br />
+The only Comfort he cou'd hope on Earth.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h2>FINIS.<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>Advertisement</h2>
+
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+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+<h2>Batchelors <i>and</i> Maids</h2>
+<h1>ANSWER</h1>
+<h2>TO THE</h2>
+<h2><i>FIFTEEN COMFORTS</i></h2>
+<h2>OF</h2>
+<h1>MATRIMONY.</h1>
+<p class="center">BEING</p>
+<h3>Real Encouragements for all Single Persons<br />
+of both Sexes to Marry as soon as ever they<br />
+can get Wives and Husbands, in order to avoid<br />
+the danger of leading Apes in Hell; with sutable<br />
+Directions for that purpose.</h3>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Dedicated to Married Men and Women.</i></p>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Licensed and Enter'd according to Order.</i></p>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>LONDON</i>, Printed and Sold by <i>Henry Hills</i>,<br />
+in <i>Black-Fryars</i>, near the Water-side.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2><i>The</i> Batchelors <i>and</i> Maids <i>Answer to the</i>
+Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.</h2>
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Batchelors and Maids Answer to the Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.">
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the First Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">But why shou'd Marriage render Man undone?<br />
+When nothing's like it underneath the Sun.<br />
+True Pleasures in the Marriage-Bed alone,<br />
+Real Joys without it never yet was known.<br />
+The Charming Bliss in Wedlock chiefly lies,<br />
+A Single Life all Honest Men despise,<br />
+What greater Comfort can on Earth be found,<br />
+When two True Hearts are both together Crown'd.<br />
+All other Pleasures are but Pains to this,<br />
+A Married Couple only, finds the Bliss.<br />
+The Frowns of Fate, and other Worldly Cares,<br />
+Are daily lessen'd by divided Shares.<br />
+The mutual Love of Man and Wife dispense,<br />
+With all the Chances of dark Providence;<br />
+Nay, If in Prison he shou'd chance to lie,<br />
+A Loving Wife brings Comforts and Supply.<br />
+She pays him visits with Delight and Care,<br />
+And Loves him ne're the less for being there.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Second Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">And why shou'd not a Man adore his Wife,<br />
+Since She's the only Comfort of his Life.<br />
+A Gift presented by the Gods above,<br />
+A lively Emblem of the Charms of Love.<br />
+All o're Divine, a Heaven, here below<br />
+Man's Paradice, where Joys in Plenty flow.<br />
+No Shame, but Honour does bless'd Wedlock Crown,<br />
+And ushers in both Glory and Renown.<br />
+Sweet pretty Babes, the Product of each Charm,<br />
+In Marriage-Bed protects us from all harm,<br />
+Their Innocence like Lambs and Doves appear,<br />
+Which make our Hearts and Minds quite void of Care.<br />
+No Sorrow can lay hold of Man or Wife,<br />
+Where Love and Virtue is the Rule of Life.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Third mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Oh! Monstrous Man, nay Beast, (I almost said)<br />
+What cursed Thoughts are got into thy Head?<br />
+To rail at those to whom thy Life is due,<br />
+No Mortal yet durst be so vile as you?<br />
+If whipping <i>Joan</i> was here alive and stout,<br />
+You do deserve to be well whip'd about.<br />
+Ten thousand lashes shall adorn thy Bumb,<br />
+If ever such a whipping Lass should come.<br />
+'Tis strange a Woman shou'd be so envy'd,<br />
+Not only mock'd, but shamefully bely'd.<br />
+With bawdy Gossips, and the Lord knows what,<br />
+To Name a Child the Husband never got.<br />
+You call him Fool, and yet that Title claim,<br />
+And prove your self the Person you wou'd Name.<br />
+You know it is a Woman's due by Birth,<br />
+To Scold and Cry, next moment Joy and Mirth.<br />
+One minute smile, the very next a Frown,<br />
+Perhaps the next she knocks her Husband down.<br />
+But what does this to hinder higher Charms?<br />
+When Joys are fix'd between the Husband's Arms,<br />
+Such transports are out of the reach of thought,<br />
+Tis only known where Wedlock Bonds are wrought.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Fourth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Marriage-hater here is forc'd to own,<br />
+The many Comforts which doth Wedlock Crown.<br />
+But strives to mix it with such Cares and Toil,<br />
+As if curs'd Malice cou'd such Blessings spoil.<br />
+Makes Charges frightful on that very score,<br />
+As if Mankind should ne'er encrease no more;<br />
+Nay, <i>Atheist</i>-like, he makes it ten times worse,<br />
+And calls <i>God's Blessings</i> nothing but a Curse:<br />
+Our Sons are Sots, and all our Daughters Whores,<br />
+Because we keep the Woolf just from the Doors:<br />
+Was ever Man so void of Sense and Shame,<br />
+As thus against all Reason to exclaim?<br />
+As if a Wife her Kindness to impart,<br />
+Shou'd teaze her Husband as to break his Heart:<br />
+This is such Stuff as ne'er was heard before,<br />
+But hope the like again shall see no more.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Fifth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">I here agree with this, my Rhiming Foe,<br />
+And own 'tis Folly when the Case is so;<br />
+For whatsoe'er the cunning Jilt pretend<br />
+To her Old Husband, yet she'll have Her Friend;<br />
+She'll coax the Dotard when his Bags are full,<br />
+Yet even then graft <i>Horns</i> upon his Skull,<br />
+Makes him a Beggar to enrich her <i>Cull</i>:<br />
+She seems most fond, till she gets all the <i>Pence</i>,<br />
+And then with Bag and Baggage marches thence;<br />
+She leaves the Fool without one single <i>Cross</i>,<br />
+To sit, lamenting for his fatal <i>Loss</i>.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Sixth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">But here I differ from the <i>Poet's</i> Thought,<br />
+Who says, A <i>Scold as even good for nought</i>;<br />
+For, like <i>Job's</i> Wife, she will Man's Patience try,<br />
+And bring Repentance too, before he die:<br />
+Then who'd live single, if a Scolding Wife<br />
+Works such great Wonders in a Husband's Life?<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Seventh Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">No modest Woman will disdain her Spouse,<br />
+Because he seldom peeps into her House;<br />
+Since Age and Sickness doth the Sport prevent,<br />
+She'll exercise her Patience with Content:<br />
+For where all's gone, the <i>Queen</i> must lose Her <i>Right</i>,<br />
+So must a Wife the Pleasure of the Night.<br />
+A Loving Woman, puts up those Defects,<br />
+And gives her Husband Honour and Respect;<br />
+Like Pious <i>Sarah</i>, serve him like a <i>Lord</i>;<br />
+Obeys in all things, which do's Peace afford:<br />
+Their Children too add Pleasure to their Lives!<br />
+Thus Men are Bless'd, who marry Virtuous Wives.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Eighth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Why should not Females under Wedlock tyes,<br />
+Participate with what the Man Enjoys?<br />
+Man's Second-self must have her share in Mirth<br />
+A Freedom, which is right to her by Birth:<br />
+If <i>Fortune's</i> Bounty has encreased her Store,<br />
+Her <i>Husband's</i> Love to her shou'd be the more;<br />
+No Cost or Care too much for such a Wife,<br />
+Whose Vertuous Charms adds Pleasure to the Life:<br />
+Such <i>Comforts</i> on a married Life depend,<br />
+There's nothing like a Loving Bosom-Friend.<br />
+If <i>Husband's</i> Stock is wasted by mischance,<br />
+A careful Wife will soon the same advance.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Ninth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Man more often is the cause of Loss,<br />
+By Drinking, Whoring or some Earthly Cross;<br />
+Then patient Wife, who yet must bear the Blame,<br />
+And hide the cause of his notorous Shame;<br />
+And many times the Sons and Daughters too,<br />
+Act just the same they see their Father do:<br />
+And therefore if they chance to go astray,<br />
+The Father pointed out the crooked way;<br />
+And yet the Crosses in a married Life<br />
+Are all imputed to a Tender Wife:<br />
+And notwithstanding all this knavish Art,<br />
+It sooner breaks the <i>Wife's</i> than <i>Husband's</i> Heart.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Tenth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">I wonder where this spiteful Author finds<br />
+such wanton Women, with such lustful Minds;<br />
+Unless he speaks by knowledg of his own,<br />
+Whose Lewdness is the Scandal of the Town;<br />
+If so, he's not mistaken in his Mark,<br />
+For Joan's <i>as good as</i> Lady <i>in the Dark</i>:<br />
+But 'tis unjust to tax all Womankind,<br />
+With Vices proper to one single mind.<br />
+If some are bad, I only this shall say,<br />
+I pity those that wed with such as they.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Eleventh Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">This by Experience, as I said before,<br />
+You speak because you married such a Wh----re;<br />
+The words themselves as plain, as plain can be<br />
+Describe your self, that you are only He,<br />
+The very Actions with your cheating Bride,<br />
+In lustful Sport, when you lay by her side;<br />
+How by degrees she did the Fool deceive<br />
+With fained Blushes make you then believe<br />
+Her Virgin Fort well fortify'd within,<br />
+Free from Attacks of such a pleasing Sin:<br />
+What e'er the Picture wants of being true,<br />
+Is, that it looks not so deform'd as you.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Twelfth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Tho' some are blindly led, and others run,<br />
+And make both haste and speed to be undone;<br />
+This alters not the Case in any wise,<br />
+But that a Man sometimes may get a Prize,<br />
+If some be wanton in obscure Nookes,<br />
+And <i>Ape</i> the <i>Saint</i>, by framing modest Looks;<br />
+Deceive the Husband, with her cunning Wiles,<br />
+And cheat his Senses with her feigned smiles,<br />
+These (I confess,) are hardships to be born,<br />
+And worse to think the Fore-head tip'd with Horn,<br />
+But still good Wives, if any such there be,<br />
+Are real Comforts of a high Degree.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Thirteenth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Lawyer's Wife is brought in for her share,<br />
+To recompence her Loving Husband's care;<br />
+As he by Bribes hath Honest Men undone,<br />
+She gives to Knaves, what he might call his own.<br />
+But Drugs and Poysons to a married Wife,<br />
+I cannot understand it for my Life.<br />
+For she that has a Husband need not fear,<br />
+But all Suspicion soon will disappear.<br />
+No matter where or when the Child was got,<br />
+It always falls unto the Husband's Lot.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Fourteenth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>'Tis true, a Widow always knows the best,<br />
+To judge those Joys, which some do call a Jest.<br />
+And if her Second Mate prove weak and dull,<br />
+With Sorrow then be sure her Heart is full.<br />
+And who can blame her, if she makes Complaint,<br />
+For that sweet Comfort to supply her want.<br />
+Well may she grieve at such a Cross as this,<br />
+For that one Fault makes all things go amiss.<br />
+If Husband wants what Widows Nature crave<br />
+He'd better be condemn'd to be a Slave,<br />
+Or make the Raging Sea his Watry Grave.<br />
+But if she finds her Pleasures to encrease,<br />
+Oh! then (my Husband) <i>how we live in Peace</i>.<br />
+She's then all Charms, no Comforts here below,<br />
+Are like what she and her dear Spouse do know.<br /><br /></td>
+<td style="vertical-align: top;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+}<br />
+}<br />
+}<br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Fifteenth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">A Peevish Husband makes a peevish Wife,<br />
+And so brings Scandal on a Married Life.<br />
+No wonder then if Sickness and Disease,<br />
+Brought on by Crosses, doth the Body seize.<br />
+All this is owing to a hair-brain'd Man,<br />
+Whose base ill nature all the strife began.<br />
+Then why shou'd Women thus be stil'd a Curse?<br />
+When Man himself perhaps is ten times worse.<br />
+Perhaps you'll say this is proposterous,<br />
+In blaming others I my self expose.<br />
+I Answer thus, if it was not for shame,<br />
+I'd this same Minute quite disown the Name.<br />
+For Men like you, their Names do sound no more,<br />
+Than if you call'd an Honest Woman Whore.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<h2>FINIS.<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>ADVERTISEMENT.</h2>
+
+<p>At the <i>Pastry-School</i>, over against the <i>Compter</i> in <i>Shovel-Ally</i> in
+<i>Wood-street</i>, near <i>Cheapside</i>; is Sold, a never failing Oyntment
+that Cures the <i>GOUT</i>, altho the Party be reduced to his Crutches,and
+that in two or three Days time; having often been found True by
+Experience, to the great Ease and Comfort of many: It also Cures
+<i>Rheumatick</i> Pains. Likewise a Cure for the <i>Tooth-Ach</i>, which
+Infallibly Cures without Drawing.<br /><br /></p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+<h2>The Fifteen</h2>
+<h1>COMFORTS</h1>
+<h2>of</h2>
+<h1>Whoring,</h1>
+<h2>OR,</h2>
+<h2><i>The Pleasures of a Town-Life.</i></h2>
+<h3>Dedicated to the Youth of the present Age.</h3>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>By the Author of the Fifteen Comforts of
+Matrimony.</i></p>
+<hr />
+<p class="center">LONDON<br />
+Printed in the YEAR, 1706.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2>The PREFACE.</h2>
+
+<p><i>I am in a little pain lest the Title shou'd give Offence to some,
+whom I am unwilling to disoblige; yet I hope be more Judicious, when
+they see the design will allow it both their Pardon and Approbation:
+for 'tis more than a little odds, had I call'd it the Fifteen Plagues
+of Whoring, whether the young Gentlemen most concerned in it, would
+have given themselves the trouble to peruse it. As they are Children
+in their Actions, they must be dealt with like Children, and have
+their Horn-books Gi[*?]ou the back. This is all the Apology I have to
+make; which I hope the Moral will explain, and supply all else that
+might be said upon that Head. Among all other Debaucheries, as the
+principal, and leading Vice, I shall begin with Whoring.</i><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Fifteen Comforts of Whoring</h2>
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Fifteen Comforts of Whoring">
+<tr><td><h3><i>The First Comfort of Whoring.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>No sooner Youth throws off his Infant Plays,<br />
+The harmless Pastime of his happier Days<br />
+But past a Child, is still in Judgement so,<br />
+And studies first what he is not to know,<br />
+Pleasure and Sence his easie Soul entice,<br />
+Spurr'd forward by his Native Love to Vice:<br />
+A Mistress now his Fancy entertains,<br />
+And Youthful Vigour boils within his Brains.<br />
+The poor lost Maid he do's with Oaths intice;<br />
+And loads his Soul with twenty Thousand Lyes;<br />
+Promises Marriage, Love, a hundred things,<br />
+Till both himself and her, he to destruction brings.<br />
+At length he finds his falsity repaid,<br />
+And draws the Curse of Heaven on his Head.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Second Comfort of Whoring.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>By this some Lewder Harlot is Carrest,<br />
+Who plays the Tyrant in his Am'rous Breast;<br />
+The Charming Syren touches e'ery String,<br />
+To keep his busie Fancy on the Wing;<br />
+All by her whiles, she binds her Captive fast,<br />
+Sooths him at first, and bubbles him at last.<br />
+To feed her Pride, clandestine means he'll take,<br />
+Rob Friends, or Master; for the Harlot's sake,<br />
+Still to the greatest Ill's he do's descend,<br />
+And Ruin only; Ruin Seals his End.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Third Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>What Nature has not done, a Harlot will,<br />
+(For sure Destruction is her boasted Skill:<br />
+One Scarce to the full Bloom of Life attain'd,<br />
+Before of Cramps and Aches he complains,<br />
+Curses the Jilt&mdash;looks pale and wan withal:<br />
+Wither'd like Fruit by their untimely fall,<br />
+Go's thro' a hated Course of nauseous Pills,<br />
+And spends a little thousand Pocky Bills:<br />
+Perhaps at length he do's get free from pain,<br />
+But the Effects on't all his Life remain.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Fourth Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Another hardly does escape so well,<br />
+From Purgatory he drops into Hell;<br />
+Where like a branded Sacrifice he comes,<br />
+And in the Flame the Harlot lit, consumes:<br />
+Of Buboes, Nodes, and Ulcers he complains,<br />
+Of Restless Days, and damn'd nocturnal Pains.<br />
+Nor less than into six Weeks Flux he goes:<br />
+Comes out a Shadow, pale and Meagre shews,<br />
+If Heaven spare that Ornament his Nose:<br />
+Thus all his Youthful Vigor's threwn away,<br />
+And e're his time he dwindles to decay.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Fifth Comfort of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>This married, settled in the Joys of Life,<br />
+A handsom Trade, and an endearing Wife;<br />
+Does yet a mind incontinent betray,<br />
+And for a Night of Pleasure dearly pay:<br />
+Having received a Favour from his Miss,<br />
+He kindly gives it to a Friend of his:<br />
+The Wife, (for that the Marriage Rites say still)<br />
+Must bear a part both of the Good or Ill.<br />
+She finds what pity 'tis she e'er had known,<br />
+Since for no Crime, nor Pleasure of her own,<br />
+Reveals it to him, knowing not at first,<br />
+What might the Cause be&mdash;tho' she fear'd the worst.<br />
+He strives to pacifie her twenty ways<br />
+Blushes&mdash;or wou'd do if he'd any Grace.<br />
+Tells Her the truth in Penetential strain,<br />
+And vows he'll never do the like again,<br />
+She weeps, forgives him all&mdash;but must endure,<br />
+The manner, and the Charges of a Cure;<br />
+Where One in twenty scarce so perfect be,<br />
+But that they leave it to Posterity.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Sixth Comfort of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Or where they 'scape the plagues of <i>Pox</i> and <i>Pills</i>,<br />
+The Sin is liable to fifty Ills,<br />
+Of equal Danger, tho' a diff'rent Cure,<br />
+As he that dreading Claps wou'd Sin secure;<br />
+For soon the pliant Wretch he has beguil'd<br />
+Hath to his Charge and wonder prove with Child:<br />
+At which, 'tmay properly be said a Man,<br />
+Leaps from the Fire to the Frying-pan,<br />
+This for his Reputation sake must be reveal'd<br />
+When Claps are only as a Jest reveal'd<br />
+She's now Remov'd&mdash;Deliver'd&mdash;and the Nurse;<br />
+Comes thick and threefold to Exhaust his Purse;<br />
+A blessed Life that woful Mortal bears,<br />
+With <i>Nurse</i> and <i>Child</i>, and <i>Mother</i> in his Ears.<br />
+Arm'd with a Thousand things that must be had,<br />
+Till they have drein'd him poor and made him mad:<br />
+What better (had he been convin'd before,)<br />
+He had Transgress'd with some Obedient Whore.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Seventh Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Another that he may his Joys secure,<br />
+Turns <i>Limbetham</i> and keep some Gaudy whore,<br />
+Thinks her his own&mdash;when Satan knows her his mind,<br />
+Is like her Body not to be confin'd,<br />
+As constant as the Moon, she plays her part,<br />
+And like a Viper preys upon his Heart:<br />
+Draws him so poor, till like her Slaves,<br />
+Which she bestows on some smart Fop she loves,<br />
+For this is with 'em a perpetual Rule,<br />
+They never Love the Person that they fool,<br />
+This he perceives not till it is too late,<br />
+Till Ruined in his Person and Estate.<br />
+And then good Night, when all his money's gone,<br />
+Miss leaves him too, to ply about the Town.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Eighth Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>But above all&mdash;if't be within thy Power,<br />
+Oh Fate! to Curse me any mortal more,<br />
+Let him be him that does so wretched prove,<br />
+To be with some Intriging Jilt in Love:<br />
+Nay, tho' in part to mollifie his pain,<br />
+We'll say the Harlot chance to Love again?<br />
+I mean such Love as Lewdness can impart,<br />
+Bred in the Blood&mdash;but never in the Heart.<br />
+With softning presents he would Cure her mind,<br />
+To him, and only to him, to be Kind.<br />
+But were the <i>Indies</i> all within his Pow'r<br />
+To give, he would but lavish all his Store,<br />
+He might confine the Sea, as soon as her.<br />
+What then (since Love no Rival will submit)<br />
+Must he indure that with this plague do's meet:<br />
+When every Thought is Death and Discontent<br />
+To know, what he wants power to prevent,<br />
+The case can only this conclusion have,<br />
+He's twice more wretched than a Galley-slave.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Ninth Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>This has some Jilt for a long time sustain'd,<br />
+Who has Imperious o'er his Pocket reign'd;<br />
+At length grown weary of so loose a Life,<br />
+Or for some other Cause, he takes a wife:<br />
+The Jilt now like a Fury flings and tears,<br />
+Ten thousand Oaths to be reveng'd she swears:<br />
+Threatens to come before his very Door,<br />
+For Whores are plagues that never give you o'er:<br />
+<i>There in the open Street to act the Scene,<br />
+And let the World know what a Spark he's been:<br />
+This; may be some fair promises prevents,<br />
+If constantly attended with the pence;<br />
+For Whores and Fidlers this one Rule advance,<br />
+Of old; no longer Pipe, no longer Dance.<br />
+But if the Promis'd Pension he withdraws,<br />
+The Fury then again Exerts her Claws:<br />
+Thus he a charge, continual intails,<br />
+Besides the Curse, the Noise, and all things else;</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Tenth Pleasure of a Town Life,</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>Another Harlot works by various means,<br />
+And acts a Jilt's true part behind the Scenes,<br />
+[*?]nds the kind Bubble of a pliant Size,<br />
+And Spreads a subtle Net to catch her Prize,<br />
+With greater ease to drive him in the same,<br />
+She first obtains his Residence, and Name,<br />
+Two useful Perquisites for her design;<br />
+The Shallow Easie Fop to undermine;<br />
+A Mesiage next she sends to let him know,<br />
+Convey'd by some such useful Rogue as R----w;<br />
+That she's with Child&mdash;and by the Love she bore,<br />
+It must be him&mdash;for she was never so before.<br />
+Which he with wonderful Surprize receives,<br />
+And for the present some few Guineas gives,<br />
+Thus he's impos'd on by a wretched Cheat,<br />
+And er'e he finds it out; pays dearly for his Wit.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Eleventh Pleasure of a Town Life.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>Nor this alone Debauch'ry comprehends,<br />
+The forward Age to other vice descends,<br />
+And Youth e're he'as attain'd good Sence to think,<br />
+Addicts himself with Pride, to swear and drink:<br />
+[*?]'s Rules Immoral from Example take,<br />
+And e're he's turn'd of fifteen, turns a Rake:<br />
+[*?]ots in Sin&mdash;(nothing that's Lewd shall scape<br />
+And on his Virgin Health commits a Rape,<br />
+Forsaking Reason&mdash;grows to Vice a Slave,<br />
+And e'r he's Thirty drops into his Grave.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Twelfth Plague of a Town Life,</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>Another has a better Progress made,<br />
+And binds himself Apprentice to the Trade;<br />
+A parboyl'd Sot, without one Spark of Grace,<br />
+Whose nightly Sins are number'd on his Face:<br />
+Which with the Rags upon his back make out,<br />
+The very Arms and Ensigns of a Sot:<br />
+Who like a Rat into Some Corner goes,<br />
+And dies Unpittied both by Friends and Foes.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Thirteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>What do's that Man deserve? to whom his Fate;<br />
+Has given an ample Stock or an Estate?<br />
+(That has, perhaps, besides a tender Wife;<br />
+Yet into Riot and Excess do's fall,<br />
+And in debauchery consumes it all?<br />
+And to his Sure Destruction makes such hast;<br />
+He do's in Body, with his Substance waste:<br />
+Lives till he want what he had misemply'd<br />
+And is like one that God had curs'd, Destroy'd.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Fourteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>But say that this a Constitution has,<br />
+Firm and unshaken as a pile of Brass<br />
+Yet who'd Endure the Palsies, aching Heads?<br />
+The pains, the Qualms, that nightly Drinking breeds?<br />
+Perpetual disorder draggs him on,<br />
+Business Neglected, and himself Undone,<br />
+A Wretched Life he spends till threescore Years,<br />
+And then the Fruits of Drunkeness appears.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Fifteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Satyr and couculde&mdash;and sum the Evils up,<br />
+Shew the great wonder how the Land shou'd 'scape,<br />
+From Fires, Famines, Pestilence and Rage,<br />
+To crush so vile, so proffligate an Age?<br />
+For let the Church be Empty as it will,<br />
+You'll see the Play-house, and the Taverns fill:<br />
+Whole Afternoons, whole Nights they'll Squander there,<br />
+Yet can't Spare one poor Minute on't for Pray'r,<br />
+This is the Sum of a Licentious Town,<br />
+Where Lewdness is into Example grown.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<h2>FINIS.<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+<h1>Fifteen Comforts</h1>
+<h2>OF</h2>
+<h1>Cuckoldom.</h1>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Written by a noted Cuckold in the</i> New-Exchange
+<i>in the</i> Strand.</p>
+<hr />
+<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt="Printer's seal"/></div>
+<p class="center">Printed in the Year 1706.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2>To the Reader.</h2>
+
+<p><i>The Town being diverted of late with a great many Comforts, several
+of the Gentlemen and others of the cornuted Society belonging to
+</i>Horn-Fair<i> not thinking those Comforts compleat without them of
+Cuckoldom, they requested me to undertake the Performance thereof, as
+having had some experience for many Years in Wives cokesing their
+Husbands in the very Moment they design'd to put a pair of Antlers on
+their Heads for fear of being gor'd by their Neighbours; whilst other
+good Wives are as often Picking their Husband's Pockets to pay now and
+then for a By-Blow: I have experienced those kind Wives too who are
+commonly upon the religious Point of going to Lectures when alas they
+had no other Business at Church than to meet their Gallants, who
+presently coaches 'em, because they dearly love Jilting. But for
+Brevity passing the several Dispositions of Men's Wives, as such as
+are Melancholly many Times for a Delay or Defeat, whilst others are
+preparing to make their Markets at the Play-house or Spring-Garden; or
+else to the Bath, when Bathing is the least part of their Errand, I
+shall draw to the Comforts which we enjoy by our Wives good Nature to
+others, which to their Fancies is sweet as Muskadine and Eggs.</i><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Fifteen Comforts, &amp;c.</h2>
+
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Fifteen Comforts of Cuckoldom">
+<tr><td><h3><i>The first Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>As I last Night in Bed lay Snoring,<br />
+I sweetly dreamt of Drinking and of Whoring,<br />
+Which waking me from a most pleasant Sleep,<br />
+To my dear Wife I very close did creep,<br />
+And offering to give her what I shou'd,<br />
+Quoth she, you Fumbler you can do no good,<br />
+Give me the Man that never claps his Wings,<br />
+But always Life and Courage with him brings,<br />
+'Tis such an one wou'd please; but as for you<br />
+If Night and Morning some small matter do;<br />
+You think you've done your due Benevolence,<br />
+When I with thrice your Labour can dispence.<br />
+This Reprimand my Courage soon did cool,<br />
+And fearing Combing with a Three-Legg'd-Stool;<br />
+I very fairly went to sleep again,<br />
+And left her of my Manhood to complain.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Second Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>No sooner had I chang'd my single Life,<br />
+And had confin'd my Carcass to a Wife;<br />
+But she was always Gadding up and down,<br />
+To take the various Pleasures of the Town;<br />
+Howe're I only reckon'd this to be,<br />
+The airy Frisks of her Minority,<br />
+Till shortly finding and old Hag wou'd pay<br />
+Her Visits oft, and take her Day by Day<br />
+[*?]oad, indeed this gave me some Mistrust,<br />
+That this old weather beaten Devil must<br />
+Be some Procurer, and resolv'd to watch<br />
+Their Waters, where shoul'd I the Bitches catch,<br />
+But in a Bowdy-house in <i>Milford-lane</i>?<br />
+So going in a Passion home again,<br />
+At twelve at Night my Doxie likewise came,<br />
+Whom I in mod'rate Terms began to blame;<br />
+Telling her that old Witch with whom she went,<br />
+Abroad a Days by Rogues was only sent<br />
+About to Wheedle young and tender Maids<br />
+To Ruine, till they turned common Jades.<br />
+<i>You Lie</i>, reply'd my hopeful graceless Dear,<br />
+<i>I'll have you know, I'll never sin in fear,<br />
+Besides for she of whom you think, Amiss,<br />
+That sweet obliging Gentlewoman is<br />
+A tender-hearted Bawd that ne'er made Whore,<br />
+But ever us'd such as were broke before.</i><br />
+Now finding her so bad at Seventeen,<br />
+Thinks I by that time she has Thirty seen,<br />
+She'll be a Whore in Grain; but by good hap,<br />
+She dy'd within a year of Pox and Clap.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The third Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>It was my Fortune to be joyn'd to one,<br />
+As pretty as was shined on by the Sun;<br />
+For on my word her Eyes were full and gray,<br />
+With ruddy Lips, round Cheeks, her Forehead lay<br />
+Archt like a snowie Bank, which did uphold<br />
+Her natvie Tresses, that did shine like Gold;<br />
+Her azure Veins, which with a well sharp'd Nose,<br />
+Her whiter Neck, broad Shoulders to compose:<br />
+A slender Waste, a Body strait and Tall,<br />
+With Swan-like Breasts, long Hands, and Fingers small,<br />
+Her Ivory Knees, her Legs were neat and clean,<br />
+A Swelling Calf, with Ancles round and lean,<br />
+Her Insteps thin, short Heels, with even Toes,<br />
+A Sole most strait, proportion'd Feet, she goes<br />
+With modest Grace; but yet her Company,<br />
+Did not a Month enjoy, before that I<br />
+Was Prest for Sea, and being on the Main,<br />
+For thirty Months I then return'd again,<br />
+Where finding in my absence that my Wife<br />
+Three brats had got, a most unchaste Life<br />
+Both Day and Night I led the lech'rous Whore;<br />
+Who seeing how I Curst, and Bann'd, and Swore,<br />
+A Bag or two she shew'd me cramn'd with Gold,<br />
+Which Treasure I no sooner did behold,<br />
+But then I Kist my loving Wife and leapt,<br />
+For very Gladness that my Horns were Tipt.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The fourth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Above a Year or two I always thought<br />
+My Wife so good that she cou'd not be naught,<br />
+Till one Night coming home I caught a Spark<br />
+Sat in my Parlor by her in the Dark,<br />
+In mighty Pet I call'd for Candles strait,<br />
+Doubting that I poor Fool was come too late:<br />
+T'avert the Burthen which is made to grow<br />
+On such who enters into Cuckolds Row.<br />
+Hower'e as I was thinking of the best,<br />
+And as I nothing saw contented rest,<br />
+My am'rous Wife's Gallant, before he went,<br />
+Did shew enough t'encrease my Discontent<br />
+For he wou'd slily pull her Petticoat,<br />
+Nod, Wink, and put into her Hand a Note,<br />
+Whisper her in the Ear, or touch her Foot<br />
+With many other private Signs to boot,<br />
+All which confirm'd my Jealousie the more,<br />
+And made me think 'em to be Rogue and Whore,<br />
+But as I knew my Wife a bawling Slut,<br />
+My Horns into my Pocket did I put<br />
+For Quietness, which yet I seldom had,<br />
+So I thro' Cuckoldom run really Mad.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The fifth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>When I poor I unto a Wife was bound,<br />
+I wish I had been Bury'd under Ground,<br />
+For to my Grief I found her both before<br />
+And after Marriage too to be a Whore.<br />
+But when I found the Beast of such a Breed,<br />
+I soldier turn'd, and with a Baw'd agreed<br />
+To let her out at half a Crown a Week<br />
+Who undertook she shou'd not be too seek;<br />
+For Custom, but said, she must for her pains,<br />
+From th' insatiate Whore have double Gains.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Sixth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Finding my Wife by Whoring nothing get,<br />
+But to maintain her Sparks ran me in Debt;<br />
+Her Whoring gratis made me really vext,<br />
+So Shop I shut, and fled to <i>Holland</i> next.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Seventh Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>While I was but into the Country gone,<br />
+To give some Chapmen there the gentle Dun<br />
+Mean time a Rubbers she with some had play'd,<br />
+And in the Powd'ring Tub was quickly laid,<br />
+Unknown to me, and had been secret still,<br />
+But that the Surgeon bringing in his Bill<br />
+When I came Home, the Murder so came out,<br />
+And still my Wife is Whore enough I doubt.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Eighth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>A sordid Lecher coming very old<br />
+To tempt my Spouse with Silver and with Gold,<br />
+She told me of't, and said, she cou'd not fawn,<br />
+On him, or's Gold, to lay her Soul in pawn.<br />
+By this I thought her Honest, till my maid<br />
+Inform'd me shortly what Lew'd Tricks she play<br />
+I Twitted then my Wife's Hypocrisie,<br />
+Who Impudently did Reply to me;<br />
+Old Flesh she Loath'd, as having in it left<br />
+No Gravy, and of all it's Juice bereft,<br />
+But if the Flesh was Young and to her mind,<br />
+She'd to one Dish would never be confin'd.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Ninth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>By my Dear Wife, in turning up her Tail<br />
+To bear the Threshing of her Gallant's Frail,<br />
+A Groat (which always is a Cuckold's Fee)<br />
+Under the Candlestick I've laid for me;<br />
+Besides good Peck and Booze, so till she's Dead,<br />
+She may and will Whore on to get me Bread.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Tenth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>As Strangers flatter'd with deceitful Snow,<br />
+Fall in a Deadly Pit they do not know,<br />
+So was I hamper'd in a Marriage Noose,<br />
+In Marrying one that did frequent the Stews,<br />
+As well as Cuckold me at Home; but she<br />
+Transacting Whoredom with great Secresie<br />
+Like other Neighbours, to avoid the Name<br />
+Of Cuckold, I as private hid her shame.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Eleventh Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>When I found Cuckolds to Encrease apace,<br />
+I Marry'd one with such an Ugly Face<br />
+That one wou'd thought the Devil wou'd but grotch<br />
+So foul a Figure as my Wife to touch;<br />
+Yet being at a Friendly Club one Night,<br />
+A Raskal came and Cuckol'd me for spight.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Twelfth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>What signifies a Man to fret and fume,<br />
+Till Grief and Sorrow makes his Flesh consume<br />
+Because his Wife in Actions may be light<br />
+And to his Face will horn him Day and Night;<br />
+This Comfort may alleviate his Woe,<br />
+That Cuckold's without doubt to Heaven go.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Thirteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>If it's my Fate (I oftentimes would cry)<br />
+To have a Wife that will play wantonly,<br />
+I soon wou'd tame her, or at least I shou'd<br />
+Be Hang'd for her but I wou'd make her good.<br />
+But faith it is my Luck to light upon<br />
+Such Ware, that will a <i>Caterwoulling</i> run,<br />
+And cannot help it, for to have her full<br />
+Of sport, she's run away a Soldiers Trull.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Fourteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>When at <i>Horn-Fair</i> I see how ev'ry Year<br />
+Whole droves of Cuckold's thither do appear<br />
+The very sight thereof wou'd make one swear<br />
+That none but Cuckolds in the Nation were;<br />
+Especially if those who are not known,<br />
+For Cuckolds too the Title wou'd but own,<br />
+And such as are not summon'd would appear,<br />
+In those Accoutrements we ought to wear,<br />
+Which are our Horns, a Pick Axe and a Spade,<br />
+That Paths may for our Wives be even laid.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Fifteenth Comfort of Cuckledom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>If that our wives will tick their Souls on Sin,<br />
+Tis vain to make about their Ears a din,<br />
+For that exasperates their will the more,<br />
+And where in private may in publick Whore;<br />
+So then the Scandal coming to all Ears,<br />
+Each Neighbour will not only fling his Jeers<br />
+Upon us, but the Boys will hoot it too,<br />
+And point their Fingers at us where we go,<br />
+As if we were not come of human Blood,<br />
+Because they do perceive we've Horns to bud;<br />
+But to avoid so base and curst a Life,<br />
+The only way's to Live without a wife.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<h2>FINIS.<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+<h1>Fifteen COMFORTS</h1>
+<h2>OF A</h2>
+<h1 style="font-family: 'Old English Text MT','EngrvrsOldEng BT',fantasy">Wanton Wife:</h1>
+<h2>OR,</h2>
+<h2><i>The</i> FOOL <i>Well Fitted.</i></h2>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Dedicated to the</i> London-Cuckolds.</p>
+<hr />
+<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt="Shield of asterisks"/></div>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>LONDON:</i><br />
+Printed in the Year 1707<br /><br /></p>
+
+<h3>THE</h3>
+<h2><i>Fifteen COMFORTS</i></h2>
+<h3>OF A</h3>
+<h2>Wanton WIFE, <i>&amp;c.</i><br /><br /></h2>
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Fifteen Comforts of a Wanton Wife">
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The First Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Unhappy Man! yoak'd with a wanton Wife,<br />
+The Wedding Day begins thy wretched Life.<br />
+Not all the Hurry of a Married State,<br />
+Can stint her Humour, make her more Sedate.<br />
+She'as all the Tricks the Devil can infuse<br />
+Into her Head; her Husband to abuse.<br />
+Her first attempt, when once the knot is ty'd.<br />
+Is how to Govern what she cannot Guide;<br />
+She flatters first, and if that chance to fail,<br />
+To gain her Ends a worser Method shall.<br />
+Force must (where Words have no effect) ensue,<br />
+It is her Humour, and it shall be so.<br />
+Thus does the fright the poor mistaken Sot,<br />
+To change his Breeches for a Petticoat:<br />
+If Kick'd or Buffeted, he dare not move,<br />
+But thinks 'tis only tokens of her Love.<br />
+What she affirms (tho' diff'rent from the Sight,<br />
+It must be so, she's always in the right.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Second Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">When thus she'as made her silly Husband bend,<br />
+She'll never let him have the upper hand.<br />
+She manages Affairs, while he (poor Soul)<br />
+Consents, because he's fearful to controul;<br />
+Not that she will to Diligence adhere,<br />
+She'll take the Pleasure, he may take the Care.<br />
+Containing an unequal Dividend,<br />
+His Business is to get, and hers to spend.<br />
+If he's unable to supply her Lust,<br />
+She'll take such care of that, another must.<br />
+Her Prentice, Bully, Stallion, Foes or Friends,<br />
+No matter who, if she but gain her Ends:<br />
+While he's the very Subject of her Scorns,<br />
+And sounds himself a Cuckold with his Horns:<br />
+Yet she's so cunning, that she rails at Evil,<br />
+And says, she hates a Harlot as the Devil.<br />
+So have I heard a Pulpit Hector rant<br />
+At Drunkenness, as zealous as a Saint,<br />
+Curse it to Hell, with trembling and with fear,<br />
+Tho' 'twas a Vice he seldom cou'd forbear.<br />
+So she derides the thing she fancies best,<br />
+And Damns the Sin she harbours in her Breast.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Third Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Next comes a little Bantling to Town,<br />
+Which the unthinking Cuckold calls his own.<br />
+'Tis like him too, as ever it can stare,<br />
+The midnight Gossips then do all declare.<br />
+<i>His very Picture</i>; every one do cry,<br />
+<i>His Mouth, his Lips, his Chin, his Nose and Eye.</i><br />
+They tell him this, and he believes it too,<br />
+Tho' it was gotten by the Lord knows who.<br />
+Yet this Advantage from it he doth draw,<br />
+He reigns chief Master, while she's in the Straw.<br />
+But when she rises, all his Power must cease,<br />
+And with it too, his Comfort and his Peace.<br />
+Her Tongue's compounded of all sorts of ill,<br />
+Given to lie, but seldom lying still.<br />
+<i>You Rogue</i> (quoth she) <i>where has your Rakeship been?<br />
+These Thirty days your Honest Wife lay in?<br />
+Here, Rock the Child, while I go take the Air,<br />
+I won't be stifled up no longer here.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fourth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Away she flings, and leaves him with her Brat,<br />
+And goes from House to House to Drink and Chat,<br />
+Finds out a Cully to her Lustful Mind,<br />
+And makes a Bargain with him to be kind.<br />
+From time to time she has such freaks as these,<br />
+And turns an errand Strumpet by degrees.<br />
+Yet blinds her Husband with this wild Excuse,<br />
+<i>She goes to see an Aunt behind the</i> Meuse.<br />
+And if he blames her, thus for staying late,<br />
+He is in danger of a broken Pate.<br />
+So that he's forc'd to stay at home to Rock,<br />
+While his Leud Wife is wasting of his Stock.<br />
+This course of Life for many years she leads.<br />
+And wallows in her lustful wicked deeds<br />
+Thus are her teeming years in Folly spent,<br />
+In Clamour, Self-conceit, and Discontent.<br />
+Impetuous in her ways; abruptly bold,<br />
+The worst of Whores, yet must not be controul'd.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fifth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Husband all this while concludes her Chaste,<br />
+And little thinks she spends his Wealth so fast,<br />
+'Till Pocky Pains begins to smart below,<br />
+Then mildly asks her if she made him so?<br />
+At which she swears, and bold'y starts this Whim,<br />
+That she had catch'd the Foul Disease of him:<br />
+Which strange Retort, makes him suspect the Crime,<br />
+She had concealed from him so long a time.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Sixth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">He tells her of her Faults, and mildly says,<br />
+Dear Wife 'tis got by going thus to Plays.<br />
+To which she answers, like a Cunning Jilt,<br />
+<i>It is the very cause of this my Guilt,<br />
+But take my Word, I ne'er did so before.<br />
+Nor never while I live, do so no more.</i><br />
+With feigned Tears, and with a <i>Judas</i> Kiss;<br />
+She said <i>(My Dear) I own I have done amiss.<br />
+But if you'll Pardon me this very time,<br />
+I'll for the future loath so vile a Crime.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Seventh Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Man o're-joy'd to hear such Words as these,<br />
+From her, he hardly ever yet could please.<br />
+In loving Terms, embrac'd her in his Arms,<br />
+And said, his chief delight was in her Charms.<br />
+Besides he added, if she would be Chaste,<br />
+He'd freely Pardon'd her for what was past.<br />
+All seeming Friendship now's afresh renew'd.<br />
+On promise she wou'd ne'er again be Leud.<br />
+With Tears and Kisses, (Woman like) she Fawns.<br />
+And asks his Pardon on her Marrow-bones.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Eighth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Cunning Jilt, she being thus forgiven,<br />
+Next studdies how to make her Ballance even.<br />
+That is to please her Husband and her Friend,<br />
+And all this while a Vertuous Wife pretend.<br />
+At last she makes a League with <i>John</i> her Man,<br />
+And thus afresh her Wickedness began,<br />
+By subtle Arts, more cautious than before,<br />
+She pleas'd her Husband, yet was still a Whore.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Ninth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Thus seeming Prudence, when 'tis ill apply'd,<br />
+It makes the Breach more dangerous and wide.<br />
+For tho' it may at first appear more bright,<br />
+And something dazling to a weaker light.<br />
+Yet being view'd with more discerning thought,<br />
+What seem'd real good, is found to be stark nought.<br />
+For this base Woman grows from bad to worse,<br />
+And proves her Husband's Plague, as well as Curse;<br />
+Consumes his Stock, on some sad Lustful Knave,<br />
+And makes her Spouse a Cuckold and a Slave.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Tenth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Sport's still carry'd on, but under-hand,<br />
+She seems the Chastest Wife in all the Land,<br />
+Oh! how she blames her self for former Deeds,<br />
+And says her Heart within with Sorrow bleeds.<br />
+Which he believes, because she sheds some Tears,<br />
+And frees his Mind from Sorrow grief and Cares.<br />
+She Apes the Saint, by framing Modest Look,<br />
+Tho' perfect Devil in a Private Nook.<br />
+Deceives her Husband with her cunning Wiles,<br />
+And Cheats his Scenses with her feigned Smiles.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Eleventh Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Extreamly fond the Cuckold hugs his Choice,<br />
+Well pleas'd to think the Whore has left her Vice,<br />
+Gives her fine Cloaths, and Money what she craves,<br />
+Which she as freely spends on Rogues and Knaves.<br />
+Her private Stallion now will not suffice,<br />
+Her Lust encreases as her Favours rise,<br />
+New Faces Charm the roving Brimstone Jilt,<br />
+And with each Beau she acts new fancy'd Guilt.<br />
+When time and place her wickedness denies,<br />
+She feeds her thoughts with her lascivious eyes.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Twelfth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Yet all this while the Husband thinks his Wife<br />
+Is Penitent, and leads a Virtuous Life.<br />
+Because she fawns and flatters Night and Day,<br />
+He can't believe she'll ever go astray.<br />
+No Cost he spares to satisfie her Pride,<br />
+But makes her equal with the loftiest Bride,<br />
+While Watch of Gold hangs dangling by her side.<br />
+He strains his Pocket to maintain her high,<br />
+And freely let's his Gold and Silver fly.<br />
+Nay, sells his Lands, her Honour to defend,<br />
+And thus is ruin'd by his Bosom Friend.<br /><br /></td>
+<td style="vertical-align: top;"><br /><br /><br /><br />
+}<br />
+}<br />
+}<br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Thirteenth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">She thus goes on and spends his Wealth so fast,<br />
+That he begins to think of what is past.<br />
+Takes notice of her Visits out of Town,<br />
+And wonders where she's Coach'd so up and down,<br />
+Enquires of <i>John</i> (who now seems Jealous too)<br />
+And asks him what he thinks his Wife will do.<br />
+The Servant's vext, but dares not yet disclose,<br />
+Not half the Truth of what he really knows.<br />
+Yet being willing something to impart,<br />
+Declares he's very sorry at his Heart.<br />
+To think how much she daily spends in Waste,<br />
+And adds, he doubts, she is not over Chaste.<br />
+But shak'd his Head, as if 'twas spoke in jest.<br />
+And left his Master to find out the rest.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fourteenth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>The Matter having wisely took the hint,<br />
+Begins to fear there may be something in't.<br />
+But still unwilling, to expose her shame,<br />
+He is resolved to tell her of the same.<br />
+Next Night he took occasion thus to say,<br />
+<i>My Dear, pray tell me, where you've been to Day</i>.<br />
+I hope (says she) you'll not be Jealous now,<br />
+D'ye think I'll damn my self to break my Vow?<br />
+I'd have you know I scorn the thing you fear,<br />
+Of such foul Deeds my Conscience now is clear.<br />
+But this I tell you for your further ease,<br />
+Where I have been, I'll go when e'er I please.<br />
+Do you think I'll be kept in like a Drone,<br />
+While others reap the Pleasures of the Town.<br />
+No Faith, I'll never yield to such hard Fate.<br />
+To be confin'd; is what I always hate.<br />
+The Honest Husband hearing what she said.<br />
+He stood amaz'd, but yet no Answer made.<br />
+He plainly saw his Ruin coming on,<br />
+His own Disgrace, and all his Money gone.<br />
+He now believes what he wou'd not before,<br />
+His Pious Wife is still a Brimstone Whore,<br />
+Who made him Cuckold, and confounded Poor.<br /><br /></td>
+<td style="vertical-align: top;"><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br />
+}<br />
+}<br />
+}<br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fifteenth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Thus wanton Wives are Plagues beyond compare,<br />
+The Devil's Nets, poor Mankind to ensnare.<br />
+His Traps to catch a Heedless Sinner in,<br />
+His Instruments to tempt a Saint to Sin.<br />
+His curst Decoys to bring Destruction on,<br />
+And make a Man despair when all is gone.<br />
+His Factors here on Earth, to Trade in Vice,<br />
+His Catch-poles to betray us in a trice.<br />
+His Vermine to consume our very Food;<br />
+His Leeches to suck out our Precious Blood.<br />
+His Wolves in Sheeps Apparrel to us sent,<br />
+To Rob and Spoil us of our true content.<br />
+His Toads to Poison Soul and Bodies too.<br />
+And send to Hell more than's the Devil's due.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<h2><i>FINIS.</i></h2>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13971 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+eBook #13971 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13971)
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony:
+Responses from Men, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses from Men
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: November 8, 2004 [EBook #13971]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTEEN COMFORTS OF MATRIMONY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Fred Robinson and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<p>[Transcriber's Note: The following was proofread from what appear to
+be scans of photocopies of a reproduction of the original text. On top
+of the original's battered type-face and archaic spellings, this
+preparer, and the proofreaders before him, have had to contend with
+dirty or faded images and missing margins. We have made our best
+guesses as to the missing letters, but in some cases we were stymied;
+those few places are marked with [*?]. In addition, the most obvious
+printer's mistakes (transposed, missing, obviously incorrect, and even
+upside-down letters) have been corrected.]<br /><br /></p>
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+<h1>Fifteen Comforts</h1>
+<h2>OF</h2>
+<h1>MATRIMONY.</h1>
+<h3>OR,</h3>
+<h3><span style="font-size: larger">Looking glass for all Those who</span><br />
+have Enter'd in that Holy and Comfortable State.<br />
+herein are sum'd up all those Blessings that attend<br />
+a Married Life.</h3>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Dedicated to Batchelors and Widdowers.</i></p>
+<hr />
+<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt="Asterisk pile"/></div>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>London.</i> Printed in the Year, 1706.<br /><br /></p>
+
+<h2>The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.</h2>
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony">
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The First Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Happy were Man, when born as free as Air,<br />
+Did he that freedom as he ought, prefer;<br />
+But the first Thing he sets his Heart upon,<br />
+Is to be Married, and to be undone:<br />
+On some young <i>Girl</i> he casts his wanton Eyes,<br />
+And wooes her with fine Complements and Toys.<br />
+But that's not all&mdash;he grows in Love at last,<br />
+And is impatient till those Joys he taste:<br />
+Nor do's the wishing Virgin disagree,<br />
+In what she longs to taste as well as he;<br />
+Married they are&mdash;no Couple for a while<br />
+Enjoy such Pleasure, Fortune seems to smile:<br />
+But all's a Dream, from which in time they wake,<br />
+And now their Breasts of other Cares partake:<br />
+She grows true Woman, sullen, proud, and high,<br />
+Complains he keeps her not accordingly,<br />
+To what she brought&mdash;wants This rich Thing, and That<br />
+Until she runs him o'er Head and Ears in Debt,<br />
+That in a Gaol he's forc'd to end his Life,<br />
+The first great Comfort flowing from a Wife.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Second Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another that has got a Handsome Wife,<br />
+Makes her the only Heaven of his Life;<br />
+Keeps her Extravagantly, Fine and Gay,<br />
+And never thinks she makes too much away;<br />
+The <i>Treats</i> and <i>Balls</i> she is invited to,<br />
+And he good Man, consents that she shall go:<br />
+Believes her Company is much desired,<br />
+And's proud to think she shou'd be so admired:<br />
+Until at length, by chance he finds the Truth,<br />
+And catches her with some enamour'd Youth:<br />
+Surpriz'd&mdash;but dare not make the Matter known,<br />
+Conceals her Shame, that he may hide his own;<br />
+He ever after spends an anxious Life,<br />
+Heavy his Sorrow, and as Light his Wife.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Third Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Scarce has another three full Moons beguil'd,<br />
+But that his forward Spouse has prov'd with Child,<br />
+And now begins the drugery of Life,<br />
+Lo! the vast Comforts of a Breeding Wife,<br />
+Now she's grown Squeamish, such ado is kept,<br />
+She e'en as peevish as an <i>Ape</i> new whipt,<br />
+She pukes and whines, do's nothing but complain,<br />
+And vows she'll never know the like again;<br />
+But 'tis as Children promise to be good,<br />
+Only remember'd while they feel the Rod.<br />
+And now the look'd for time approaches nigh,<br />
+And you've a thousand several Things to buy,<br />
+The Twi-lights, Blankets, and the Lord knows what,<br />
+To keep the Child, perhaps he never got,<br />
+A noise of Bawdy Gossips in his Ears,<br />
+Until his House like <i>Billings gate</i> appears,<br />
+Thus amply curst, he grows discreetly dull,<br />
+And from a Man of Sence, becomes a Fool.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fourth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">One that so fast in <i>Hymens</i> Net appears,<br />
+He has been strugling in't near twenty Years:<br />
+With Care and Toil to propagate his Store,<br />
+Able to keep the Wolf just from the Door;<br />
+As num'rous Offspring round his Table spread;<br />
+Daughters for Marriage fit, and Sons for Trades,<br />
+Is Blest with Comforts of the Marriage Bed.<br />
+Charges encreasing daily, and the thought<br />
+Where to get Money to dispose 'em out?<br />
+Or then perhaps he feels the greater Curse,<br />
+The Sons turn Sots, or Fools, the Daughters worse;<br />
+The Wife still teezing him to do his part,<br />
+Until he has enough to break his Heart.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fifth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">But the least pitied is your Aged Ass,<br />
+Who tho full Sixty, wou'd for Forty pass:<br />
+And that he may be sure a Crop to have,<br />
+And carry <i>Horns</i> fresh budding to his Grave,<br />
+On one of Twenty, blooming as a Rose,<br />
+His dry and wither'd Carkass he bestows:<br />
+She jilts, intrigues, and plays upon him still,<br />
+Keeps her Gallants, and Rambles at her Will;<br />
+Do's nothing but her Pride and Pleasure mind,<br />
+And throws his Gold like Chaff before the Wind;<br />
+Until at length she beggars the old Slave,<br />
+And brings his Gray-Hairs with Sorrow to the Grave.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Sixth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The next in course is he that weds a Shrew;<br />
+One that will talk, and wear the Breeches too;<br />
+Governs, insults, do's what e'er she thinks fit,<br />
+And he good Man, must to her Will submit;<br />
+Mannages all Affairs at home, abroad,<br />
+While he a Cypher seems, and stands for naught;<br />
+When e'er he speaks, she snaps him, and crys,<br />
+<i>Pray hold your Tongue, who was't made you so wife?<br />
+You will be prating, though you nothing know:</i><br />
+This he must bear, and be contented too,<br />
+See his Friends slighted, and must silent be,<br />
+Till Death shall from the Torment set him free.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Seventh Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another that has liv'd some Years in Peace,<br />
+A wedded Life&mdash;do's now in strength decrease,<br />
+Nor able is to satisfie that Debt,<br />
+Which Marriage claims, and Women still expect,<br />
+Wherefore she now withdraws her Love and Care,<br />
+Reviles, and twits him of his Slights to her;<br />
+Makes it a daily Quarrel, flings and throws,<br />
+And Peace is now a Stranger to his House;<br />
+Nay, even his Servants, and his Children too,<br />
+E'en act the same they see the Mother do,<br />
+While he declining, and consumptive sits,<br />
+Bears all with patience, and to all submits.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Eighth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another <i>Lady</i>, nicer bred and born,<br />
+Makes Huswif'ry, and Providence her Scorn<br />
+Her Maid and she must to the <i>Wells</i> repair,<br />
+She is not well, and goes to take the Air:<br />
+The House to Servants she entrusts at home,<br />
+And down on <i>Saturday</i> her Spouse must come,<br />
+And with him something very Costly bring,<br />
+Or Treat her there with some nice pretty thing,<br />
+She brought a Fortune, and it must be so,<br />
+But home to Rack and Ruin all do's go,<br />
+He sums his Gains, and finds it will not do;<br />
+In that for fifteen hundred pound she brought,<br />
+He'd better had a Huswife in her Smock.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Ninth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another that with Prudence, and with Cares,<br />
+Has mannag'd well his Family Affairs,<br />
+Govern'd his Wife and Children with that ease,<br />
+Which always kept the Family in peace;<br />
+His sons and Daughters educated so,<br />
+None better bred, none cou'd gentiler go:<br />
+The Sons are now set up to drive their Trade,<br />
+The daughters married, and their Fortunes paid.<br />
+One Son runs out, another takes ill ways,<br />
+For which their Father's Pocket always pays;<br />
+The Daughter's Husband breaks, and she must come<br />
+And live a burthen on him again at home;<br />
+Until the daily Cares that they impart,<br />
+Break first his Substance, and then break his Heart.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Tenth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">One thinking to encrease the Joys of Life,<br />
+Marries a Beautiful young Buxom Wife;<br />
+But soon he finds himself grow cloy'd and weak,<br />
+Nor can he give her half those Joys she'd take,<br />
+He now Consumptive, Pale and Meagre grows,<br />
+While she complaining to her Parents goes;<br />
+Says <i>she can't Love him, such a one as he.</i><br />
+And now desires she may live sep'rately.<br />
+The poor fond Parents to him trudge in haste,<br />
+And reprimand him soundly for what's past.<br />
+He knows no Cause&mdash;Nor thinks he is to blame,<br />
+They tell him plainly she shall live with them,<br />
+And he allow her what is fit to have,<br />
+Which he must yield to if he'll quiet have.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Eleventh Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Another has begun before her Time,<br />
+Tasted those joys&mdash;but still conceal'd her Crime<br />
+And now her Parents thinks her fit to Wed,<br />
+(The Man that has her's finely brought to Bed,)<br />
+Some hopeful Youth of Equal Worth is found,<br />
+And soon his Suit with glad Success is crown'd,<br />
+The Marriage Articles next agreed,<br />
+And the Impostor <i>Virgin</i> sooth'd to Bed;<br />
+The Am'rous <i>Bridegroom</i> on the Wanton flies,<br />
+Who modestly his first Attempt denys;<br />
+Again he moves her, she denys again,<br />
+<i>Crys Lord I never shall endure a Man</i>:<br />
+But warmer grown, he rushes on the Bride,<br />
+And panting now, is but with Sighs deny'd,<br />
+She yields a little to dissemble more,<br />
+Knowing the part she'd acted once before:<br />
+Wwhile he good Man, so pleas'd with what he'as done,<br />
+Proclaims her Chastity to all the Town.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Twelfth Comfort,</i> &amp;c.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Some are so fond, so blinded in their Choice,<br />
+That they are ravish'd with their beautious Prize;<br />
+In such a case the young unthinking Sot,<br />
+Boasts what a handsome Genteel Wife he'as got,<br />
+Doates on her Face, commends her Shape and Air,<br />
+And thinks her Virtuous beyond compare:<br />
+When all the time she plays her Pranks unknown,<br />
+And with her Gallant rambles up and down;<br />
+[*?]y, brings him home, while the poor Husband's sent<br />
+On some Fools Errand, she has her content:<br />
+At length he finds her out, but dare not speak,<br />
+But bears all calmly for his Honour's sake.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Thirteenth Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>This Married to some Beauty of Renown,<br />
+Whose Business often keeps him out of Town;<br />
+But the good Woman cannot lie alone:<br />
+While the poor <i>Lawyer's</i> stating o'er the Case,<br />
+She finds another to supply his Place;<br />
+And proving pregnant, reckons up the Time,<br />
+Lest the Sot Husband shou'd suspect her Crime.<br />
+She swallows Drugs and Poysons ev'ry day,<br />
+To bring the Child before its time away;<br />
+This she performs so often, and is Sick,<br />
+That he at length begins to smoak the Trick;<br />
+Next time he keeps account, and plains it is,<br />
+He swears point-blank the Child is none of his.<br /><br /></td>
+<td style="vertical-align: top;">}<br />
+}<br />
+}<br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fourteenth Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The next a Widow thinks it best to Wed,<br />
+And takes the knowing Matron to his Bed,<br />
+A while he quenches her insatiate Fire,<br />
+But in a little times begins to tire,<br />
+The <i>Lady</i> soon the difference can find,<br />
+And truly very plainly speaks her Mind,<br />
+She twits him of the good departed Man,<br />
+Whose like, she says, <i>She ne'er shall see again,<br />
+He never left me in a Morning so,<br />
+But took a parting Kiss before he'd go;<br />
+And get me some Good Thing for Breakfast too:<br />
+Well, he a dear kind Husband was to me,<br />
+But now my Days are spent in Misery.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fifteenth Comfort of Matrimony.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Last, and not least of all these Comforts is,<br />
+The Man that's Wedded unto some Disease,<br />
+A peevish, crazy, and a sickly Wife,<br />
+The Burthen and the Nusance of his Life;<br />
+Her Bed, the meer resemblance of a Tomb,<br />
+And an <i>Apothecarys</i> Shop her Room;<br />
+Coughing and Spitting all the Night she lies,<br />
+A very Antidote to Marriage Joys:<br />
+Yet the poor Man must bear with all these Ills,<br />
+Besides the Excessive Charge of Physick Bills,<br />
+A Nurse, fine Cordials, and a hundred things,<br />
+Until his Substance she to little brings,<br />
+Till may be she at length resigns to Death,<br />
+The only Comfort he cou'd hope on Earth.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h2>FINIS.<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
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+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+<h2>Batchelors <i>and</i> Maids</h2>
+<h1>ANSWER</h1>
+<h2>TO THE</h2>
+<h2><i>FIFTEEN COMFORTS</i></h2>
+<h2>OF</h2>
+<h1>MATRIMONY.</h1>
+<p class="center">BEING</p>
+<h3>Real Encouragements for all Single Persons<br />
+of both Sexes to Marry as soon as ever they<br />
+can get Wives and Husbands, in order to avoid<br />
+the danger of leading Apes in Hell; with sutable<br />
+Directions for that purpose.</h3>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Dedicated to Married Men and Women.</i></p>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Licensed and Enter'd according to Order.</i></p>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>LONDON</i>, Printed and Sold by <i>Henry Hills</i>,<br />
+in <i>Black-Fryars</i>, near the Water-side.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2><i>The</i> Batchelors <i>and</i> Maids <i>Answer to the</i>
+Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.</h2>
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Batchelors and Maids Answer to the Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.">
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the First Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">But why shou'd Marriage render Man undone?<br />
+When nothing's like it underneath the Sun.<br />
+True Pleasures in the Marriage-Bed alone,<br />
+Real Joys without it never yet was known.<br />
+The Charming Bliss in Wedlock chiefly lies,<br />
+A Single Life all Honest Men despise,<br />
+What greater Comfort can on Earth be found,<br />
+When two True Hearts are both together Crown'd.<br />
+All other Pleasures are but Pains to this,<br />
+A Married Couple only, finds the Bliss.<br />
+The Frowns of Fate, and other Worldly Cares,<br />
+Are daily lessen'd by divided Shares.<br />
+The mutual Love of Man and Wife dispense,<br />
+With all the Chances of dark Providence;<br />
+Nay, If in Prison he shou'd chance to lie,<br />
+A Loving Wife brings Comforts and Supply.<br />
+She pays him visits with Delight and Care,<br />
+And Loves him ne're the less for being there.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Second Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">And why shou'd not a Man adore his Wife,<br />
+Since She's the only Comfort of his Life.<br />
+A Gift presented by the Gods above,<br />
+A lively Emblem of the Charms of Love.<br />
+All o're Divine, a Heaven, here below<br />
+Man's Paradice, where Joys in Plenty flow.<br />
+No Shame, but Honour does bless'd Wedlock Crown,<br />
+And ushers in both Glory and Renown.<br />
+Sweet pretty Babes, the Product of each Charm,<br />
+In Marriage-Bed protects us from all harm,<br />
+Their Innocence like Lambs and Doves appear,<br />
+Which make our Hearts and Minds quite void of Care.<br />
+No Sorrow can lay hold of Man or Wife,<br />
+Where Love and Virtue is the Rule of Life.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Third mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Oh! Monstrous Man, nay Beast, (I almost said)<br />
+What cursed Thoughts are got into thy Head?<br />
+To rail at those to whom thy Life is due,<br />
+No Mortal yet durst be so vile as you?<br />
+If whipping <i>Joan</i> was here alive and stout,<br />
+You do deserve to be well whip'd about.<br />
+Ten thousand lashes shall adorn thy Bumb,<br />
+If ever such a whipping Lass should come.<br />
+'Tis strange a Woman shou'd be so envy'd,<br />
+Not only mock'd, but shamefully bely'd.<br />
+With bawdy Gossips, and the Lord knows what,<br />
+To Name a Child the Husband never got.<br />
+You call him Fool, and yet that Title claim,<br />
+And prove your self the Person you wou'd Name.<br />
+You know it is a Woman's due by Birth,<br />
+To Scold and Cry, next moment Joy and Mirth.<br />
+One minute smile, the very next a Frown,<br />
+Perhaps the next she knocks her Husband down.<br />
+But what does this to hinder higher Charms?<br />
+When Joys are fix'd between the Husband's Arms,<br />
+Such transports are out of the reach of thought,<br />
+Tis only known where Wedlock Bonds are wrought.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Fourth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Marriage-hater here is forc'd to own,<br />
+The many Comforts which doth Wedlock Crown.<br />
+But strives to mix it with such Cares and Toil,<br />
+As if curs'd Malice cou'd such Blessings spoil.<br />
+Makes Charges frightful on that very score,<br />
+As if Mankind should ne'er encrease no more;<br />
+Nay, <i>Atheist</i>-like, he makes it ten times worse,<br />
+And calls <i>God's Blessings</i> nothing but a Curse:<br />
+Our Sons are Sots, and all our Daughters Whores,<br />
+Because we keep the Woolf just from the Doors:<br />
+Was ever Man so void of Sense and Shame,<br />
+As thus against all Reason to exclaim?<br />
+As if a Wife her Kindness to impart,<br />
+Shou'd teaze her Husband as to break his Heart:<br />
+This is such Stuff as ne'er was heard before,<br />
+But hope the like again shall see no more.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Fifth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">I here agree with this, my Rhiming Foe,<br />
+And own 'tis Folly when the Case is so;<br />
+For whatsoe'er the cunning Jilt pretend<br />
+To her Old Husband, yet she'll have Her Friend;<br />
+She'll coax the Dotard when his Bags are full,<br />
+Yet even then graft <i>Horns</i> upon his Skull,<br />
+Makes him a Beggar to enrich her <i>Cull</i>:<br />
+She seems most fond, till she gets all the <i>Pence</i>,<br />
+And then with Bag and Baggage marches thence;<br />
+She leaves the Fool without one single <i>Cross</i>,<br />
+To sit, lamenting for his fatal <i>Loss</i>.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Sixth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">But here I differ from the <i>Poet's</i> Thought,<br />
+Who says, A <i>Scold as even good for nought</i>;<br />
+For, like <i>Job's</i> Wife, she will Man's Patience try,<br />
+And bring Repentance too, before he die:<br />
+Then who'd live single, if a Scolding Wife<br />
+Works such great Wonders in a Husband's Life?<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Seventh Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">No modest Woman will disdain her Spouse,<br />
+Because he seldom peeps into her House;<br />
+Since Age and Sickness doth the Sport prevent,<br />
+She'll exercise her Patience with Content:<br />
+For where all's gone, the <i>Queen</i> must lose Her <i>Right</i>,<br />
+So must a Wife the Pleasure of the Night.<br />
+A Loving Woman, puts up those Defects,<br />
+And gives her Husband Honour and Respect;<br />
+Like Pious <i>Sarah</i>, serve him like a <i>Lord</i>;<br />
+Obeys in all things, which do's Peace afford:<br />
+Their Children too add Pleasure to their Lives!<br />
+Thus Men are Bless'd, who marry Virtuous Wives.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Eighth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Why should not Females under Wedlock tyes,<br />
+Participate with what the Man Enjoys?<br />
+Man's Second-self must have her share in Mirth<br />
+A Freedom, which is right to her by Birth:<br />
+If <i>Fortune's</i> Bounty has encreased her Store,<br />
+Her <i>Husband's</i> Love to her shou'd be the more;<br />
+No Cost or Care too much for such a Wife,<br />
+Whose Vertuous Charms adds Pleasure to the Life:<br />
+Such <i>Comforts</i> on a married Life depend,<br />
+There's nothing like a Loving Bosom-Friend.<br />
+If <i>Husband's</i> Stock is wasted by mischance,<br />
+A careful Wife will soon the same advance.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Ninth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Man more often is the cause of Loss,<br />
+By Drinking, Whoring or some Earthly Cross;<br />
+Then patient Wife, who yet must bear the Blame,<br />
+And hide the cause of his notorous Shame;<br />
+And many times the Sons and Daughters too,<br />
+Act just the same they see their Father do:<br />
+And therefore if they chance to go astray,<br />
+The Father pointed out the crooked way;<br />
+And yet the Crosses in a married Life<br />
+Are all imputed to a Tender Wife:<br />
+And notwithstanding all this knavish Art,<br />
+It sooner breaks the <i>Wife's</i> than <i>Husband's</i> Heart.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Tenth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">I wonder where this spiteful Author finds<br />
+such wanton Women, with such lustful Minds;<br />
+Unless he speaks by knowledg of his own,<br />
+Whose Lewdness is the Scandal of the Town;<br />
+If so, he's not mistaken in his Mark,<br />
+For Joan's <i>as good as</i> Lady <i>in the Dark</i>:<br />
+But 'tis unjust to tax all Womankind,<br />
+With Vices proper to one single mind.<br />
+If some are bad, I only this shall say,<br />
+I pity those that wed with such as they.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Eleventh Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">This by Experience, as I said before,<br />
+You speak because you married such a Wh----re;<br />
+The words themselves as plain, as plain can be<br />
+Describe your self, that you are only He,<br />
+The very Actions with your cheating Bride,<br />
+In lustful Sport, when you lay by her side;<br />
+How by degrees she did the Fool deceive<br />
+With fained Blushes make you then believe<br />
+Her Virgin Fort well fortify'd within,<br />
+Free from Attacks of such a pleasing Sin:<br />
+What e'er the Picture wants of being true,<br />
+Is, that it looks not so deform'd as you.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Twelfth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Tho' some are blindly led, and others run,<br />
+And make both haste and speed to be undone;<br />
+This alters not the Case in any wise,<br />
+But that a Man sometimes may get a Prize,<br />
+If some be wanton in obscure Nookes,<br />
+And <i>Ape</i> the <i>Saint</i>, by framing modest Looks;<br />
+Deceive the Husband, with her cunning Wiles,<br />
+And cheat his Senses with her feigned smiles,<br />
+These (I confess,) are hardships to be born,<br />
+And worse to think the Fore-head tip'd with Horn,<br />
+But still good Wives, if any such there be,<br />
+Are real Comforts of a high Degree.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Thirteenth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Lawyer's Wife is brought in for her share,<br />
+To recompence her Loving Husband's care;<br />
+As he by Bribes hath Honest Men undone,<br />
+She gives to Knaves, what he might call his own.<br />
+But Drugs and Poysons to a married Wife,<br />
+I cannot understand it for my Life.<br />
+For she that has a Husband need not fear,<br />
+But all Suspicion soon will disappear.<br />
+No matter where or when the Child was got,<br />
+It always falls unto the Husband's Lot.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Fourteenth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>'Tis true, a Widow always knows the best,<br />
+To judge those Joys, which some do call a Jest.<br />
+And if her Second Mate prove weak and dull,<br />
+With Sorrow then be sure her Heart is full.<br />
+And who can blame her, if she makes Complaint,<br />
+For that sweet Comfort to supply her want.<br />
+Well may she grieve at such a Cross as this,<br />
+For that one Fault makes all things go amiss.<br />
+If Husband wants what Widows Nature crave<br />
+He'd better be condemn'd to be a Slave,<br />
+Or make the Raging Sea his Watry Grave.<br />
+But if she finds her Pleasures to encrease,<br />
+Oh! then (my Husband) <i>how we live in Peace</i>.<br />
+She's then all Charms, no Comforts here below,<br />
+Are like what she and her dear Spouse do know.<br /><br /></td>
+<td style="vertical-align: top;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+}<br />
+}<br />
+}<br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>Answer to the Fifteenth Mock Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">A Peevish Husband makes a peevish Wife,<br />
+And so brings Scandal on a Married Life.<br />
+No wonder then if Sickness and Disease,<br />
+Brought on by Crosses, doth the Body seize.<br />
+All this is owing to a hair-brain'd Man,<br />
+Whose base ill nature all the strife began.<br />
+Then why shou'd Women thus be stil'd a Curse?<br />
+When Man himself perhaps is ten times worse.<br />
+Perhaps you'll say this is proposterous,<br />
+In blaming others I my self expose.<br />
+I Answer thus, if it was not for shame,<br />
+I'd this same Minute quite disown the Name.<br />
+For Men like you, their Names do sound no more,<br />
+Than if you call'd an Honest Woman Whore.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<h2>FINIS.<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>ADVERTISEMENT.</h2>
+
+<p>At the <i>Pastry-School</i>, over against the <i>Compter</i> in <i>Shovel-Ally</i> in
+<i>Wood-street</i>, near <i>Cheapside</i>; is Sold, a never failing Oyntment
+that Cures the <i>GOUT</i>, altho the Party be reduced to his Crutches,and
+that in two or three Days time; having often been found True by
+Experience, to the great Ease and Comfort of many: It also Cures
+<i>Rheumatick</i> Pains. Likewise a Cure for the <i>Tooth-Ach</i>, which
+Infallibly Cures without Drawing.<br /><br /></p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+<h2>The Fifteen</h2>
+<h1>COMFORTS</h1>
+<h2>of</h2>
+<h1>Whoring,</h1>
+<h2>OR,</h2>
+<h2><i>The Pleasures of a Town-Life.</i></h2>
+<h3>Dedicated to the Youth of the present Age.</h3>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>By the Author of the Fifteen Comforts of
+Matrimony.</i></p>
+<hr />
+<p class="center">LONDON<br />
+Printed in the YEAR, 1706.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2>The PREFACE.</h2>
+
+<p><i>I am in a little pain lest the Title shou'd give Offence to some,
+whom I am unwilling to disoblige; yet I hope be more Judicious, when
+they see the design will allow it both their Pardon and Approbation:
+for 'tis more than a little odds, had I call'd it the Fifteen Plagues
+of Whoring, whether the young Gentlemen most concerned in it, would
+have given themselves the trouble to peruse it. As they are Children
+in their Actions, they must be dealt with like Children, and have
+their Horn-books Gi[*?]ou the back. This is all the Apology I have to
+make; which I hope the Moral will explain, and supply all else that
+might be said upon that Head. Among all other Debaucheries, as the
+principal, and leading Vice, I shall begin with Whoring.</i><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Fifteen Comforts of Whoring</h2>
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Fifteen Comforts of Whoring">
+<tr><td><h3><i>The First Comfort of Whoring.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>No sooner Youth throws off his Infant Plays,<br />
+The harmless Pastime of his happier Days<br />
+But past a Child, is still in Judgement so,<br />
+And studies first what he is not to know,<br />
+Pleasure and Sence his easie Soul entice,<br />
+Spurr'd forward by his Native Love to Vice:<br />
+A Mistress now his Fancy entertains,<br />
+And Youthful Vigour boils within his Brains.<br />
+The poor lost Maid he do's with Oaths intice;<br />
+And loads his Soul with twenty Thousand Lyes;<br />
+Promises Marriage, Love, a hundred things,<br />
+Till both himself and her, he to destruction brings.<br />
+At length he finds his falsity repaid,<br />
+And draws the Curse of Heaven on his Head.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Second Comfort of Whoring.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>By this some Lewder Harlot is Carrest,<br />
+Who plays the Tyrant in his Am'rous Breast;<br />
+The Charming Syren touches e'ery String,<br />
+To keep his busie Fancy on the Wing;<br />
+All by her whiles, she binds her Captive fast,<br />
+Sooths him at first, and bubbles him at last.<br />
+To feed her Pride, clandestine means he'll take,<br />
+Rob Friends, or Master; for the Harlot's sake,<br />
+Still to the greatest Ill's he do's descend,<br />
+And Ruin only; Ruin Seals his End.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Third Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>What Nature has not done, a Harlot will,<br />
+(For sure Destruction is her boasted Skill:<br />
+One Scarce to the full Bloom of Life attain'd,<br />
+Before of Cramps and Aches he complains,<br />
+Curses the Jilt&mdash;looks pale and wan withal:<br />
+Wither'd like Fruit by their untimely fall,<br />
+Go's thro' a hated Course of nauseous Pills,<br />
+And spends a little thousand Pocky Bills:<br />
+Perhaps at length he do's get free from pain,<br />
+But the Effects on't all his Life remain.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Fourth Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Another hardly does escape so well,<br />
+From Purgatory he drops into Hell;<br />
+Where like a branded Sacrifice he comes,<br />
+And in the Flame the Harlot lit, consumes:<br />
+Of Buboes, Nodes, and Ulcers he complains,<br />
+Of Restless Days, and damn'd nocturnal Pains.<br />
+Nor less than into six Weeks Flux he goes:<br />
+Comes out a Shadow, pale and Meagre shews,<br />
+If Heaven spare that Ornament his Nose:<br />
+Thus all his Youthful Vigor's threwn away,<br />
+And e're his time he dwindles to decay.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Fifth Comfort of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>This married, settled in the Joys of Life,<br />
+A handsom Trade, and an endearing Wife;<br />
+Does yet a mind incontinent betray,<br />
+And for a Night of Pleasure dearly pay:<br />
+Having received a Favour from his Miss,<br />
+He kindly gives it to a Friend of his:<br />
+The Wife, (for that the Marriage Rites say still)<br />
+Must bear a part both of the Good or Ill.<br />
+She finds what pity 'tis she e'er had known,<br />
+Since for no Crime, nor Pleasure of her own,<br />
+Reveals it to him, knowing not at first,<br />
+What might the Cause be&mdash;tho' she fear'd the worst.<br />
+He strives to pacifie her twenty ways<br />
+Blushes&mdash;or wou'd do if he'd any Grace.<br />
+Tells Her the truth in Penetential strain,<br />
+And vows he'll never do the like again,<br />
+She weeps, forgives him all&mdash;but must endure,<br />
+The manner, and the Charges of a Cure;<br />
+Where One in twenty scarce so perfect be,<br />
+But that they leave it to Posterity.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Sixth Comfort of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Or where they 'scape the plagues of <i>Pox</i> and <i>Pills</i>,<br />
+The Sin is liable to fifty Ills,<br />
+Of equal Danger, tho' a diff'rent Cure,<br />
+As he that dreading Claps wou'd Sin secure;<br />
+For soon the pliant Wretch he has beguil'd<br />
+Hath to his Charge and wonder prove with Child:<br />
+At which, 'tmay properly be said a Man,<br />
+Leaps from the Fire to the Frying-pan,<br />
+This for his Reputation sake must be reveal'd<br />
+When Claps are only as a Jest reveal'd<br />
+She's now Remov'd&mdash;Deliver'd&mdash;and the Nurse;<br />
+Comes thick and threefold to Exhaust his Purse;<br />
+A blessed Life that woful Mortal bears,<br />
+With <i>Nurse</i> and <i>Child</i>, and <i>Mother</i> in his Ears.<br />
+Arm'd with a Thousand things that must be had,<br />
+Till they have drein'd him poor and made him mad:<br />
+What better (had he been convin'd before,)<br />
+He had Transgress'd with some Obedient Whore.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Seventh Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Another that he may his Joys secure,<br />
+Turns <i>Limbetham</i> and keep some Gaudy whore,<br />
+Thinks her his own&mdash;when Satan knows her his mind,<br />
+Is like her Body not to be confin'd,<br />
+As constant as the Moon, she plays her part,<br />
+And like a Viper preys upon his Heart:<br />
+Draws him so poor, till like her Slaves,<br />
+Which she bestows on some smart Fop she loves,<br />
+For this is with 'em a perpetual Rule,<br />
+They never Love the Person that they fool,<br />
+This he perceives not till it is too late,<br />
+Till Ruined in his Person and Estate.<br />
+And then good Night, when all his money's gone,<br />
+Miss leaves him too, to ply about the Town.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Eighth Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>But above all&mdash;if't be within thy Power,<br />
+Oh Fate! to Curse me any mortal more,<br />
+Let him be him that does so wretched prove,<br />
+To be with some Intriging Jilt in Love:<br />
+Nay, tho' in part to mollifie his pain,<br />
+We'll say the Harlot chance to Love again?<br />
+I mean such Love as Lewdness can impart,<br />
+Bred in the Blood&mdash;but never in the Heart.<br />
+With softning presents he would Cure her mind,<br />
+To him, and only to him, to be Kind.<br />
+But were the <i>Indies</i> all within his Pow'r<br />
+To give, he would but lavish all his Store,<br />
+He might confine the Sea, as soon as her.<br />
+What then (since Love no Rival will submit)<br />
+Must he indure that with this plague do's meet:<br />
+When every Thought is Death and Discontent<br />
+To know, what he wants power to prevent,<br />
+The case can only this conclusion have,<br />
+He's twice more wretched than a Galley-slave.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Ninth Pleasure of a Town Life.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>This has some Jilt for a long time sustain'd,<br />
+Who has Imperious o'er his Pocket reign'd;<br />
+At length grown weary of so loose a Life,<br />
+Or for some other Cause, he takes a wife:<br />
+The Jilt now like a Fury flings and tears,<br />
+Ten thousand Oaths to be reveng'd she swears:<br />
+Threatens to come before his very Door,<br />
+For Whores are plagues that never give you o'er:<br />
+<i>There in the open Street to act the Scene,<br />
+And let the World know what a Spark he's been:<br />
+This; may be some fair promises prevents,<br />
+If constantly attended with the pence;<br />
+For Whores and Fidlers this one Rule advance,<br />
+Of old; no longer Pipe, no longer Dance.<br />
+But if the Promis'd Pension he withdraws,<br />
+The Fury then again Exerts her Claws:<br />
+Thus he a charge, continual intails,<br />
+Besides the Curse, the Noise, and all things else;</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Tenth Pleasure of a Town Life,</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>Another Harlot works by various means,<br />
+And acts a Jilt's true part behind the Scenes,<br />
+[*?]nds the kind Bubble of a pliant Size,<br />
+And Spreads a subtle Net to catch her Prize,<br />
+With greater ease to drive him in the same,<br />
+She first obtains his Residence, and Name,<br />
+Two useful Perquisites for her design;<br />
+The Shallow Easie Fop to undermine;<br />
+A Mesiage next she sends to let him know,<br />
+Convey'd by some such useful Rogue as R----w;<br />
+That she's with Child&mdash;and by the Love she bore,<br />
+It must be him&mdash;for she was never so before.<br />
+Which he with wonderful Surprize receives,<br />
+And for the present some few Guineas gives,<br />
+Thus he's impos'd on by a wretched Cheat,<br />
+And er'e he finds it out; pays dearly for his Wit.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Eleventh Pleasure of a Town Life.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>Nor this alone Debauch'ry comprehends,<br />
+The forward Age to other vice descends,<br />
+And Youth e're he'as attain'd good Sence to think,<br />
+Addicts himself with Pride, to swear and drink:<br />
+[*?]'s Rules Immoral from Example take,<br />
+And e're he's turn'd of fifteen, turns a Rake:<br />
+[*?]ots in Sin&mdash;(nothing that's Lewd shall scape<br />
+And on his Virgin Health commits a Rape,<br />
+Forsaking Reason&mdash;grows to Vice a Slave,<br />
+And e'r he's Thirty drops into his Grave.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Twelfth Plague of a Town Life,</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>Another has a better Progress made,<br />
+And binds himself Apprentice to the Trade;<br />
+A parboyl'd Sot, without one Spark of Grace,<br />
+Whose nightly Sins are number'd on his Face:<br />
+Which with the Rags upon his back make out,<br />
+The very Arms and Ensigns of a Sot:<br />
+Who like a Rat into Some Corner goes,<br />
+And dies Unpittied both by Friends and Foes.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Thirteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>What do's that Man deserve? to whom his Fate;<br />
+Has given an ample Stock or an Estate?<br />
+(That has, perhaps, besides a tender Wife;<br />
+Yet into Riot and Excess do's fall,<br />
+And in debauchery consumes it all?<br />
+And to his Sure Destruction makes such hast;<br />
+He do's in Body, with his Substance waste:<br />
+Lives till he want what he had misemply'd<br />
+And is like one that God had curs'd, Destroy'd.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Fourteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>But say that this a Constitution has,<br />
+Firm and unshaken as a pile of Brass<br />
+Yet who'd Endure the Palsies, aching Heads?<br />
+The pains, the Qualms, that nightly Drinking breeds?<br />
+Perpetual disorder draggs him on,<br />
+Business Neglected, and himself Undone,<br />
+A Wretched Life he spends till threescore Years,<br />
+And then the Fruits of Drunkeness appears.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3>The Fifteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.</h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Satyr and couculde&mdash;and sum the Evils up,<br />
+Shew the great wonder how the Land shou'd 'scape,<br />
+From Fires, Famines, Pestilence and Rage,<br />
+To crush so vile, so proffligate an Age?<br />
+For let the Church be Empty as it will,<br />
+You'll see the Play-house, and the Taverns fill:<br />
+Whole Afternoons, whole Nights they'll Squander there,<br />
+Yet can't Spare one poor Minute on't for Pray'r,<br />
+This is the Sum of a Licentious Town,<br />
+Where Lewdness is into Example grown.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<h2>FINIS.<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+<h1>Fifteen Comforts</h1>
+<h2>OF</h2>
+<h1>Cuckoldom.</h1>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Written by a noted Cuckold in the</i> New-Exchange
+<i>in the</i> Strand.</p>
+<hr />
+<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt="Printer's seal"/></div>
+<p class="center">Printed in the Year 1706.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2>To the Reader.</h2>
+
+<p><i>The Town being diverted of late with a great many Comforts, several
+of the Gentlemen and others of the cornuted Society belonging to
+</i>Horn-Fair<i> not thinking those Comforts compleat without them of
+Cuckoldom, they requested me to undertake the Performance thereof, as
+having had some experience for many Years in Wives cokesing their
+Husbands in the very Moment they design'd to put a pair of Antlers on
+their Heads for fear of being gor'd by their Neighbours; whilst other
+good Wives are as often Picking their Husband's Pockets to pay now and
+then for a By-Blow: I have experienced those kind Wives too who are
+commonly upon the religious Point of going to Lectures when alas they
+had no other Business at Church than to meet their Gallants, who
+presently coaches 'em, because they dearly love Jilting. But for
+Brevity passing the several Dispositions of Men's Wives, as such as
+are Melancholly many Times for a Delay or Defeat, whilst others are
+preparing to make their Markets at the Play-house or Spring-Garden; or
+else to the Bath, when Bathing is the least part of their Errand, I
+shall draw to the Comforts which we enjoy by our Wives good Nature to
+others, which to their Fancies is sweet as Muskadine and Eggs.</i><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Fifteen Comforts, &amp;c.</h2>
+
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Fifteen Comforts of Cuckoldom">
+<tr><td><h3><i>The first Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>As I last Night in Bed lay Snoring,<br />
+I sweetly dreamt of Drinking and of Whoring,<br />
+Which waking me from a most pleasant Sleep,<br />
+To my dear Wife I very close did creep,<br />
+And offering to give her what I shou'd,<br />
+Quoth she, you Fumbler you can do no good,<br />
+Give me the Man that never claps his Wings,<br />
+But always Life and Courage with him brings,<br />
+'Tis such an one wou'd please; but as for you<br />
+If Night and Morning some small matter do;<br />
+You think you've done your due Benevolence,<br />
+When I with thrice your Labour can dispence.<br />
+This Reprimand my Courage soon did cool,<br />
+And fearing Combing with a Three-Legg'd-Stool;<br />
+I very fairly went to sleep again,<br />
+And left her of my Manhood to complain.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Second Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>No sooner had I chang'd my single Life,<br />
+And had confin'd my Carcass to a Wife;<br />
+But she was always Gadding up and down,<br />
+To take the various Pleasures of the Town;<br />
+Howe're I only reckon'd this to be,<br />
+The airy Frisks of her Minority,<br />
+Till shortly finding and old Hag wou'd pay<br />
+Her Visits oft, and take her Day by Day<br />
+[*?]oad, indeed this gave me some Mistrust,<br />
+That this old weather beaten Devil must<br />
+Be some Procurer, and resolv'd to watch<br />
+Their Waters, where shoul'd I the Bitches catch,<br />
+But in a Bowdy-house in <i>Milford-lane</i>?<br />
+So going in a Passion home again,<br />
+At twelve at Night my Doxie likewise came,<br />
+Whom I in mod'rate Terms began to blame;<br />
+Telling her that old Witch with whom she went,<br />
+Abroad a Days by Rogues was only sent<br />
+About to Wheedle young and tender Maids<br />
+To Ruine, till they turned common Jades.<br />
+<i>You Lie</i>, reply'd my hopeful graceless Dear,<br />
+<i>I'll have you know, I'll never sin in fear,<br />
+Besides for she of whom you think, Amiss,<br />
+That sweet obliging Gentlewoman is<br />
+A tender-hearted Bawd that ne'er made Whore,<br />
+But ever us'd such as were broke before.</i><br />
+Now finding her so bad at Seventeen,<br />
+Thinks I by that time she has Thirty seen,<br />
+She'll be a Whore in Grain; but by good hap,<br />
+She dy'd within a year of Pox and Clap.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The third Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>It was my Fortune to be joyn'd to one,<br />
+As pretty as was shined on by the Sun;<br />
+For on my word her Eyes were full and gray,<br />
+With ruddy Lips, round Cheeks, her Forehead lay<br />
+Archt like a snowie Bank, which did uphold<br />
+Her natvie Tresses, that did shine like Gold;<br />
+Her azure Veins, which with a well sharp'd Nose,<br />
+Her whiter Neck, broad Shoulders to compose:<br />
+A slender Waste, a Body strait and Tall,<br />
+With Swan-like Breasts, long Hands, and Fingers small,<br />
+Her Ivory Knees, her Legs were neat and clean,<br />
+A Swelling Calf, with Ancles round and lean,<br />
+Her Insteps thin, short Heels, with even Toes,<br />
+A Sole most strait, proportion'd Feet, she goes<br />
+With modest Grace; but yet her Company,<br />
+Did not a Month enjoy, before that I<br />
+Was Prest for Sea, and being on the Main,<br />
+For thirty Months I then return'd again,<br />
+Where finding in my absence that my Wife<br />
+Three brats had got, a most unchaste Life<br />
+Both Day and Night I led the lech'rous Whore;<br />
+Who seeing how I Curst, and Bann'd, and Swore,<br />
+A Bag or two she shew'd me cramn'd with Gold,<br />
+Which Treasure I no sooner did behold,<br />
+But then I Kist my loving Wife and leapt,<br />
+For very Gladness that my Horns were Tipt.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The fourth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Above a Year or two I always thought<br />
+My Wife so good that she cou'd not be naught,<br />
+Till one Night coming home I caught a Spark<br />
+Sat in my Parlor by her in the Dark,<br />
+In mighty Pet I call'd for Candles strait,<br />
+Doubting that I poor Fool was come too late:<br />
+T'avert the Burthen which is made to grow<br />
+On such who enters into Cuckolds Row.<br />
+Hower'e as I was thinking of the best,<br />
+And as I nothing saw contented rest,<br />
+My am'rous Wife's Gallant, before he went,<br />
+Did shew enough t'encrease my Discontent<br />
+For he wou'd slily pull her Petticoat,<br />
+Nod, Wink, and put into her Hand a Note,<br />
+Whisper her in the Ear, or touch her Foot<br />
+With many other private Signs to boot,<br />
+All which confirm'd my Jealousie the more,<br />
+And made me think 'em to be Rogue and Whore,<br />
+But as I knew my Wife a bawling Slut,<br />
+My Horns into my Pocket did I put<br />
+For Quietness, which yet I seldom had,<br />
+So I thro' Cuckoldom run really Mad.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The fifth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>When I poor I unto a Wife was bound,<br />
+I wish I had been Bury'd under Ground,<br />
+For to my Grief I found her both before<br />
+And after Marriage too to be a Whore.<br />
+But when I found the Beast of such a Breed,<br />
+I soldier turn'd, and with a Baw'd agreed<br />
+To let her out at half a Crown a Week<br />
+Who undertook she shou'd not be too seek;<br />
+For Custom, but said, she must for her pains,<br />
+From th' insatiate Whore have double Gains.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Sixth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Finding my Wife by Whoring nothing get,<br />
+But to maintain her Sparks ran me in Debt;<br />
+Her Whoring gratis made me really vext,<br />
+So Shop I shut, and fled to <i>Holland</i> next.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Seventh Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>While I was but into the Country gone,<br />
+To give some Chapmen there the gentle Dun<br />
+Mean time a Rubbers she with some had play'd,<br />
+And in the Powd'ring Tub was quickly laid,<br />
+Unknown to me, and had been secret still,<br />
+But that the Surgeon bringing in his Bill<br />
+When I came Home, the Murder so came out,<br />
+And still my Wife is Whore enough I doubt.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Eighth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>A sordid Lecher coming very old<br />
+To tempt my Spouse with Silver and with Gold,<br />
+She told me of't, and said, she cou'd not fawn,<br />
+On him, or's Gold, to lay her Soul in pawn.<br />
+By this I thought her Honest, till my maid<br />
+Inform'd me shortly what Lew'd Tricks she play<br />
+I Twitted then my Wife's Hypocrisie,<br />
+Who Impudently did Reply to me;<br />
+Old Flesh she Loath'd, as having in it left<br />
+No Gravy, and of all it's Juice bereft,<br />
+But if the Flesh was Young and to her mind,<br />
+She'd to one Dish would never be confin'd.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Ninth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>By my Dear Wife, in turning up her Tail<br />
+To bear the Threshing of her Gallant's Frail,<br />
+A Groat (which always is a Cuckold's Fee)<br />
+Under the Candlestick I've laid for me;<br />
+Besides good Peck and Booze, so till she's Dead,<br />
+She may and will Whore on to get me Bread.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Tenth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>As Strangers flatter'd with deceitful Snow,<br />
+Fall in a Deadly Pit they do not know,<br />
+So was I hamper'd in a Marriage Noose,<br />
+In Marrying one that did frequent the Stews,<br />
+As well as Cuckold me at Home; but she<br />
+Transacting Whoredom with great Secresie<br />
+Like other Neighbours, to avoid the Name<br />
+Of Cuckold, I as private hid her shame.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Eleventh Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>When I found Cuckolds to Encrease apace,<br />
+I Marry'd one with such an Ugly Face<br />
+That one wou'd thought the Devil wou'd but grotch<br />
+So foul a Figure as my Wife to touch;<br />
+Yet being at a Friendly Club one Night,<br />
+A Raskal came and Cuckol'd me for spight.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Twelfth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>What signifies a Man to fret and fume,<br />
+Till Grief and Sorrow makes his Flesh consume<br />
+Because his Wife in Actions may be light<br />
+And to his Face will horn him Day and Night;<br />
+This Comfort may alleviate his Woe,<br />
+That Cuckold's without doubt to Heaven go.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Thirteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>If it's my Fate (I oftentimes would cry)<br />
+To have a Wife that will play wantonly,<br />
+I soon wou'd tame her, or at least I shou'd<br />
+Be Hang'd for her but I wou'd make her good.<br />
+But faith it is my Luck to light upon<br />
+Such Ware, that will a <i>Caterwoulling</i> run,<br />
+And cannot help it, for to have her full<br />
+Of sport, she's run away a Soldiers Trull.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Fourteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>When at <i>Horn-Fair</i> I see how ev'ry Year<br />
+Whole droves of Cuckold's thither do appear<br />
+The very sight thereof wou'd make one swear<br />
+That none but Cuckolds in the Nation were;<br />
+Especially if those who are not known,<br />
+For Cuckolds too the Title wou'd but own,<br />
+And such as are not summon'd would appear,<br />
+In those Accoutrements we ought to wear,<br />
+Which are our Horns, a Pick Axe and a Spade,<br />
+That Paths may for our Wives be even laid.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td><h3><i>The Fifteenth Comfort of Cuckledom.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>If that our wives will tick their Souls on Sin,<br />
+Tis vain to make about their Ears a din,<br />
+For that exasperates their will the more,<br />
+And where in private may in publick Whore;<br />
+So then the Scandal coming to all Ears,<br />
+Each Neighbour will not only fling his Jeers<br />
+Upon us, but the Boys will hoot it too,<br />
+And point their Fingers at us where we go,<br />
+As if we were not come of human Blood,<br />
+Because they do perceive we've Horns to bud;<br />
+But to avoid so base and curst a Life,<br />
+The only way's to Live without a wife.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<h2>FINIS.<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+<h1>Fifteen COMFORTS</h1>
+<h2>OF A</h2>
+<h1 style="font-family: 'Old English Text MT','EngrvrsOldEng BT',fantasy">Wanton Wife:</h1>
+<h2>OR,</h2>
+<h2><i>The</i> FOOL <i>Well Fitted.</i></h2>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>Dedicated to the</i> London-Cuckolds.</p>
+<hr />
+<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt="Shield of asterisks"/></div>
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><i>LONDON:</i><br />
+Printed in the Year 1707<br /><br /></p>
+
+<h3>THE</h3>
+<h2><i>Fifteen COMFORTS</i></h2>
+<h3>OF A</h3>
+<h2>Wanton WIFE, <i>&amp;c.</i><br /><br /></h2>
+
+<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
+summary="The Fifteen Comforts of a Wanton Wife">
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The First Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Unhappy Man! yoak'd with a wanton Wife,<br />
+The Wedding Day begins thy wretched Life.<br />
+Not all the Hurry of a Married State,<br />
+Can stint her Humour, make her more Sedate.<br />
+She'as all the Tricks the Devil can infuse<br />
+Into her Head; her Husband to abuse.<br />
+Her first attempt, when once the knot is ty'd.<br />
+Is how to Govern what she cannot Guide;<br />
+She flatters first, and if that chance to fail,<br />
+To gain her Ends a worser Method shall.<br />
+Force must (where Words have no effect) ensue,<br />
+It is her Humour, and it shall be so.<br />
+Thus does the fright the poor mistaken Sot,<br />
+To change his Breeches for a Petticoat:<br />
+If Kick'd or Buffeted, he dare not move,<br />
+But thinks 'tis only tokens of her Love.<br />
+What she affirms (tho' diff'rent from the Sight,<br />
+It must be so, she's always in the right.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Second Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">When thus she'as made her silly Husband bend,<br />
+She'll never let him have the upper hand.<br />
+She manages Affairs, while he (poor Soul)<br />
+Consents, because he's fearful to controul;<br />
+Not that she will to Diligence adhere,<br />
+She'll take the Pleasure, he may take the Care.<br />
+Containing an unequal Dividend,<br />
+His Business is to get, and hers to spend.<br />
+If he's unable to supply her Lust,<br />
+She'll take such care of that, another must.<br />
+Her Prentice, Bully, Stallion, Foes or Friends,<br />
+No matter who, if she but gain her Ends:<br />
+While he's the very Subject of her Scorns,<br />
+And sounds himself a Cuckold with his Horns:<br />
+Yet she's so cunning, that she rails at Evil,<br />
+And says, she hates a Harlot as the Devil.<br />
+So have I heard a Pulpit Hector rant<br />
+At Drunkenness, as zealous as a Saint,<br />
+Curse it to Hell, with trembling and with fear,<br />
+Tho' 'twas a Vice he seldom cou'd forbear.<br />
+So she derides the thing she fancies best,<br />
+And Damns the Sin she harbours in her Breast.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Third Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Next comes a little Bantling to Town,<br />
+Which the unthinking Cuckold calls his own.<br />
+'Tis like him too, as ever it can stare,<br />
+The midnight Gossips then do all declare.<br />
+<i>His very Picture</i>; every one do cry,<br />
+<i>His Mouth, his Lips, his Chin, his Nose and Eye.</i><br />
+They tell him this, and he believes it too,<br />
+Tho' it was gotten by the Lord knows who.<br />
+Yet this Advantage from it he doth draw,<br />
+He reigns chief Master, while she's in the Straw.<br />
+But when she rises, all his Power must cease,<br />
+And with it too, his Comfort and his Peace.<br />
+Her Tongue's compounded of all sorts of ill,<br />
+Given to lie, but seldom lying still.<br />
+<i>You Rogue</i> (quoth she) <i>where has your Rakeship been?<br />
+These Thirty days your Honest Wife lay in?<br />
+Here, Rock the Child, while I go take the Air,<br />
+I won't be stifled up no longer here.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fourth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Away she flings, and leaves him with her Brat,<br />
+And goes from House to House to Drink and Chat,<br />
+Finds out a Cully to her Lustful Mind,<br />
+And makes a Bargain with him to be kind.<br />
+From time to time she has such freaks as these,<br />
+And turns an errand Strumpet by degrees.<br />
+Yet blinds her Husband with this wild Excuse,<br />
+<i>She goes to see an Aunt behind the</i> Meuse.<br />
+And if he blames her, thus for staying late,<br />
+He is in danger of a broken Pate.<br />
+So that he's forc'd to stay at home to Rock,<br />
+While his Leud Wife is wasting of his Stock.<br />
+This course of Life for many years she leads.<br />
+And wallows in her lustful wicked deeds<br />
+Thus are her teeming years in Folly spent,<br />
+In Clamour, Self-conceit, and Discontent.<br />
+Impetuous in her ways; abruptly bold,<br />
+The worst of Whores, yet must not be controul'd.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fifth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Husband all this while concludes her Chaste,<br />
+And little thinks she spends his Wealth so fast,<br />
+'Till Pocky Pains begins to smart below,<br />
+Then mildly asks her if she made him so?<br />
+At which she swears, and bold'y starts this Whim,<br />
+That she had catch'd the Foul Disease of him:<br />
+Which strange Retort, makes him suspect the Crime,<br />
+She had concealed from him so long a time.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Sixth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">He tells her of her Faults, and mildly says,<br />
+Dear Wife 'tis got by going thus to Plays.<br />
+To which she answers, like a Cunning Jilt,<br />
+<i>It is the very cause of this my Guilt,<br />
+But take my Word, I ne'er did so before.<br />
+Nor never while I live, do so no more.</i><br />
+With feigned Tears, and with a <i>Judas</i> Kiss;<br />
+She said <i>(My Dear) I own I have done amiss.<br />
+But if you'll Pardon me this very time,<br />
+I'll for the future loath so vile a Crime.</i><br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Seventh Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Man o're-joy'd to hear such Words as these,<br />
+From her, he hardly ever yet could please.<br />
+In loving Terms, embrac'd her in his Arms,<br />
+And said, his chief delight was in her Charms.<br />
+Besides he added, if she would be Chaste,<br />
+He'd freely Pardon'd her for what was past.<br />
+All seeming Friendship now's afresh renew'd.<br />
+On promise she wou'd ne'er again be Leud.<br />
+With Tears and Kisses, (Woman like) she Fawns.<br />
+And asks his Pardon on her Marrow-bones.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Eighth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Cunning Jilt, she being thus forgiven,<br />
+Next studdies how to make her Ballance even.<br />
+That is to please her Husband and her Friend,<br />
+And all this while a Vertuous Wife pretend.<br />
+At last she makes a League with <i>John</i> her Man,<br />
+And thus afresh her Wickedness began,<br />
+By subtle Arts, more cautious than before,<br />
+She pleas'd her Husband, yet was still a Whore.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Ninth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Thus seeming Prudence, when 'tis ill apply'd,<br />
+It makes the Breach more dangerous and wide.<br />
+For tho' it may at first appear more bright,<br />
+And something dazling to a weaker light.<br />
+Yet being view'd with more discerning thought,<br />
+What seem'd real good, is found to be stark nought.<br />
+For this base Woman grows from bad to worse,<br />
+And proves her Husband's Plague, as well as Curse;<br />
+Consumes his Stock, on some sad Lustful Knave,<br />
+And makes her Spouse a Cuckold and a Slave.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Tenth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">The Sport's still carry'd on, but under-hand,<br />
+She seems the Chastest Wife in all the Land,<br />
+Oh! how she blames her self for former Deeds,<br />
+And says her Heart within with Sorrow bleeds.<br />
+Which he believes, because she sheds some Tears,<br />
+And frees his Mind from Sorrow grief and Cares.<br />
+She Apes the Saint, by framing Modest Look,<br />
+Tho' perfect Devil in a Private Nook.<br />
+Deceives her Husband with her cunning Wiles,<br />
+And Cheats his Scenses with her feigned Smiles.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Eleventh Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Extreamly fond the Cuckold hugs his Choice,<br />
+Well pleas'd to think the Whore has left her Vice,<br />
+Gives her fine Cloaths, and Money what she craves,<br />
+Which she as freely spends on Rogues and Knaves.<br />
+Her private Stallion now will not suffice,<br />
+Her Lust encreases as her Favours rise,<br />
+New Faces Charm the roving Brimstone Jilt,<br />
+And with each Beau she acts new fancy'd Guilt.<br />
+When time and place her wickedness denies,<br />
+She feeds her thoughts with her lascivious eyes.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Twelfth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Yet all this while the Husband thinks his Wife<br />
+Is Penitent, and leads a Virtuous Life.<br />
+Because she fawns and flatters Night and Day,<br />
+He can't believe she'll ever go astray.<br />
+No Cost he spares to satisfie her Pride,<br />
+But makes her equal with the loftiest Bride,<br />
+While Watch of Gold hangs dangling by her side.<br />
+He strains his Pocket to maintain her high,<br />
+And freely let's his Gold and Silver fly.<br />
+Nay, sells his Lands, her Honour to defend,<br />
+And thus is ruin'd by his Bosom Friend.<br /><br /></td>
+<td style="vertical-align: top;"><br /><br /><br /><br />
+}<br />
+}<br />
+}<br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Thirteenth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">She thus goes on and spends his Wealth so fast,<br />
+That he begins to think of what is past.<br />
+Takes notice of her Visits out of Town,<br />
+And wonders where she's Coach'd so up and down,<br />
+Enquires of <i>John</i> (who now seems Jealous too)<br />
+And asks him what he thinks his Wife will do.<br />
+The Servant's vext, but dares not yet disclose,<br />
+Not half the Truth of what he really knows.<br />
+Yet being willing something to impart,<br />
+Declares he's very sorry at his Heart.<br />
+To think how much she daily spends in Waste,<br />
+And adds, he doubts, she is not over Chaste.<br />
+But shak'd his Head, as if 'twas spoke in jest.<br />
+And left his Master to find out the rest.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fourteenth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>The Matter having wisely took the hint,<br />
+Begins to fear there may be something in't.<br />
+But still unwilling, to expose her shame,<br />
+He is resolved to tell her of the same.<br />
+Next Night he took occasion thus to say,<br />
+<i>My Dear, pray tell me, where you've been to Day</i>.<br />
+I hope (says she) you'll not be Jealous now,<br />
+D'ye think I'll damn my self to break my Vow?<br />
+I'd have you know I scorn the thing you fear,<br />
+Of such foul Deeds my Conscience now is clear.<br />
+But this I tell you for your further ease,<br />
+Where I have been, I'll go when e'er I please.<br />
+Do you think I'll be kept in like a Drone,<br />
+While others reap the Pleasures of the Town.<br />
+No Faith, I'll never yield to such hard Fate.<br />
+To be confin'd; is what I always hate.<br />
+The Honest Husband hearing what she said.<br />
+He stood amaz'd, but yet no Answer made.<br />
+He plainly saw his Ruin coming on,<br />
+His own Disgrace, and all his Money gone.<br />
+He now believes what he wou'd not before,<br />
+His Pious Wife is still a Brimstone Whore,<br />
+Who made him Cuckold, and confounded Poor.<br /><br /></td>
+<td style="vertical-align: top;"><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br />
+}<br />
+}<br />
+}<br /></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2"><h3><i>The Fifteenth Comfort.</i></h3></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2">Thus wanton Wives are Plagues beyond compare,<br />
+The Devil's Nets, poor Mankind to ensnare.<br />
+His Traps to catch a Heedless Sinner in,<br />
+His Instruments to tempt a Saint to Sin.<br />
+His curst Decoys to bring Destruction on,<br />
+And make a Man despair when all is gone.<br />
+His Factors here on Earth, to Trade in Vice,<br />
+His Catch-poles to betray us in a trice.<br />
+His Vermine to consume our very Food;<br />
+His Leeches to suck out our Precious Blood.<br />
+His Wolves in Sheeps Apparrel to us sent,<br />
+To Rob and Spoil us of our true content.<br />
+His Toads to Poison Soul and Bodies too.<br />
+And send to Hell more than's the Devil's due.<br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<h2><i>FINIS.</i></h2>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony:
+Responses from Men, by Various
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony:
+Responses from Men, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses from Men
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: November 8, 2004 [EBook #13971]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTEEN COMFORTS OF MATRIMONY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Fred Robinson and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: The following was proofread from what appear to
+be scans of photocopies of a reproduction of the original text. On top
+of the original's battered type-face and archaic spellings, this
+preparer, and the proofreaders before him, have had to contend with
+dirty or faded images and missing margins. We have made our best
+guesses as to the missing letters, but in some cases we were stymied;
+those few places are marked with [*?]. In addition, the most obvious
+printer's mistakes (transposed, missing, obviously incorrect, and even
+upside-down letters) have been corrected.]
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                  THE
+                           Fifteen Comforts
+                                  OF
+                              MATRIMONY.
+
+                                  OR,
+
+          Looking glass for all Those who
+          have Enter'd in that Holy and Comfortable State.
+          herein are sum'd up all those Blessings that attend
+          a Married Life.
+
+               _Dedicated to Batchelors and Widdowers._
+
+                 _London._ Printed in the Year, 1706.
+
+
+
+
+                  The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.
+
+
+
+
+                   _The First Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         Happy were Man, when born as free as Air,
+         Did he that freedom as he ought, prefer;
+         But the first Thing he sets his Heart upon,
+         Is to be Married, and to be undone:
+         On some young _Girl_ he casts his wanton Eyes,
+         And wooes her with fine Complements and Toys.
+         But that's not all--he grows in Love at last,
+         And is impatient till those Joys he taste:
+         Nor do's the wishing Virgin disagree,
+         In what she longs to taste as well as he;
+         Married they are--no Couple for a while
+         Enjoy such Pleasure, Fortune seems to smile:
+         But all's a Dream, from which in time they wake,
+         And now their Breasts of other Cares partake:
+         She grows true Woman, sullen, proud, and high,
+         Complains he keeps her not accordingly,
+         To what she brought--wants This rich Thing, and That
+         Until she runs him o'er Head and Ears in Debt,
+         That in a Gaol he's forc'd to end his Life,
+         The first great Comfort flowing from a Wife.
+
+
+                  _The Second Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         Another that has got a Handsome Wife,
+         Makes her the only Heaven of his Life;
+         Keeps her Extravagantly, Fine and Gay,
+         And never thinks she makes too much away;
+         The _Treats_ and _Balls_ she is invited to,
+         And he good Man, consents that she shall go:
+         Believes her Company is much desired,
+         And's proud to think she shou'd be so admired:
+         Until at length, by chance he finds the Truth,
+         And catches her with some enamour'd Youth:
+         Surpriz'd--but dare not make the Matter known,
+         Conceals her Shame, that he may hide his own;
+         He ever after spends an anxious Life,
+         Heavy his Sorrow, and as Light his Wife.
+
+
+                   _The Third Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         Scarce has another three full Moons beguil'd,
+         But that his forward Spouse has prov'd with Child,
+         And now begins the drugery of Life,
+         Lo! the vast Comforts of a Breeding Wife,
+         Now she's grown Squeamish, such ado is kept,
+         She e'en as peevish as an _Ape_ new whipt,
+         She pukes and whines, do's nothing but complain,
+         And vows she'll never know the like again;
+         But 'tis as Children promise to be good,
+         Only remember'd while they feel the Rod.
+         And now the look'd for time approaches nigh,
+         And you've a thousand several Things to buy,
+         The Twi-lights, Blankets, and the Lord knows what,
+         To keep the Child, perhaps he never got,
+         A noise of Bawdy Gossips in his Ears,
+         Until his House like _Billings gate_ appears,
+         Thus amply curst, he grows discreetly dull,
+         And from a Man of Sence, becomes a Fool.
+
+
+                       _The Fourth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         One that so fast in _Hymens_ Net appears,
+         He has been strugling in't near twenty Years:
+         With Care and Toil to propagate his Store,
+         Able to keep the Wolf just from the Door;
+         As num'rous Offspring round his Table spread;
+         Daughters for Marriage fit, and Sons for Trades,
+         Is Blest with Comforts of the Marriage Bed.
+         Charges encreasing daily, and the thought
+         Where to get Money to dispose 'em out?
+         Or then perhaps he feels the greater Curse,
+         The Sons turn Sots, or Fools, the Daughters worse;
+         The Wife still teezing him to do his part,
+         Until he has enough to break his Heart.
+
+
+                       _The Fifth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         But the least pitied is your Aged Ass,
+         Who tho full Sixty, wou'd for Forty pass:
+         And that he may be sure a Crop to have,
+         And carry _Horns_ fresh budding to his Grave,
+         On one of Twenty, blooming as a Rose,
+         His dry and wither'd Carkass he bestows:
+         She jilts, intrigues, and plays upon him still,
+         Keeps her Gallants, and Rambles at her Will;
+         Do's nothing but her Pride and Pleasure mind,
+         And throws his Gold like Chaff before the Wind;
+         Until at length she beggars the old Slave,
+         And brings his Gray-Hairs with Sorrow to the Grave.
+
+
+                       _The Sixth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         The next in course is he that weds a Shrew;
+         One that will talk, and wear the Breeches too;
+         Governs, insults, do's what e'er she thinks fit,
+         And he good Man, must to her Will submit;
+         Mannages all Affairs at home, abroad,
+         While he a Cypher seems, and stands for naught;
+         When e'er he speaks, she snaps him, and crys,
+         _Pray hold your Tongue, who was't made you so wife?
+         You will be prating, though you nothing know:_
+         This he must bear, and be contented too,
+         See his Friends slighted, and must silent be,
+         Till Death shall from the Torment set him free.
+
+
+                      _The Seventh Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Another that has liv'd some Years in Peace,
+         A wedded Life--do's now in strength decrease,
+         Nor able is to satisfie that Debt,
+         Which Marriage claims, and Women still expect,
+         Wherefore she now withdraws her Love and Care,
+         Reviles, and twits him of his Slights to her;
+         Makes it a daily Quarrel, flings and throws,
+         And Peace is now a Stranger to his House;
+         Nay, even his Servants, and his Children too,
+         E'en act the same they see the Mother do,
+         While he declining, and consumptive sits,
+         Bears all with patience, and to all submits.
+
+
+                       _The Eighth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Another _Lady_, nicer bred and born,
+         Makes Huswif'ry, and Providence her Scorn
+         Her Maid and she must to the _Wells_ repair,
+         She is not well, and goes to take the Air:
+         The House to Servants she entrusts at home,
+         And down on _Saturday_ her Spouse must come,
+         And with him something very Costly bring,
+         Or Treat her there with some nice pretty thing,
+         She brought a Fortune, and it must be so,
+         But home to Rack and Ruin all do's go,
+         He sums his Gains, and finds it will not do;
+         In that for fifteen hundred pound she brought,
+         He'd better had a Huswife in her Smock.
+
+
+                       _The Ninth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Another that with Prudence, and with Cares,
+         Has mannag'd well his Family Affairs,
+         Govern'd his Wife and Children with that ease,
+         Which always kept the Family in peace;
+         His sons and Daughters educated so,
+         None better bred, none cou'd gentiler go:
+         The Sons are now set up to drive their Trade,
+         The daughters married, and their Fortunes paid.
+         One Son runs out, another takes ill ways,
+         For which their Father's Pocket always pays;
+         The Daughter's Husband breaks, and she must come
+         And live a burthen on him again at home;
+         Until the daily Cares that they impart,
+         Break first his Substance, and then break his Heart.
+
+
+                       _The Tenth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         One thinking to encrease the Joys of Life,
+         Marries a Beautiful young Buxom Wife;
+         But soon he finds himself grow cloy'd and weak,
+         Nor can he give her half those Joys she'd take,
+         He now Consumptive, Pale and Meagre grows,
+         While she complaining to her Parents goes;
+         Says _she can't Love him, such a one as he._
+         And now desires she may live sep'rately.
+         The poor fond Parents to him trudge in haste,
+         And reprimand him soundly for what's past.
+         He knows no Cause--Nor thinks he is to blame,
+         They tell him plainly she shall live with them,
+         And he allow her what is fit to have,
+         Which he must yield to if he'll quiet have.
+
+
+                     _The Eleventh Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Another has begun before her Time,
+         Tasted those joys--but still conceal'd her Crime
+         And now her Parents thinks her fit to Wed,
+         (The Man that has her's finely brought to Bed,)
+         Some hopeful Youth of Equal Worth is found,
+         And soon his Suit with glad Success is crown'd,
+         The Marriage Articles next agreed,
+         And the Impostor _Virgin_ sooth'd to Bed;
+         The Am'rous _Bridegroom_ on the Wanton flies,
+         Who modestly his first Attempt denys;
+         Again he moves her, she denys again,
+         _Crys Lord I never shall endure a Man_:
+         But warmer grown, he rushes on the Bride,
+         And panting now, is but with Sighs deny'd,
+         She yields a little to dissemble more,
+         Knowing the part she'd acted once before:
+         Wwhile he good Man, so pleas'd with what he'as done,
+         Proclaims her Chastity to all the Town.
+
+
+                      _The Twelfth Comfort,_ &c.
+
+         Some are so fond, so blinded in their Choice,
+         That they are ravish'd with their beautious Prize;
+         In such a case the young unthinking Sot,
+         Boasts what a handsome Genteel Wife he'as got,
+         Doates on her Face, commends her Shape and Air,
+         And thinks her Virtuous beyond compare:
+         When all the time she plays her Pranks unknown,
+         And with her Gallant rambles up and down;
+         [*?]y, brings him home, while the poor Husband's sent
+         On some Fools Errand, she has her content:
+         At length he finds her out, but dare not speak,
+         But bears all calmly for his Honour's sake.
+
+
+                 _The Thirteenth Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         This Married to some Beauty of Renown,          }
+         Whose Business often keeps him out of Town;     }
+         But the good Woman cannot lie alone:            }
+         While the poor _Lawyer's_ stating o'er the Case,
+         She finds another to supply his Place;
+         And proving pregnant, reckons up the Time,
+         Lest the Sot Husband shou'd suspect her Crime.
+         She swallows Drugs and Poysons ev'ry day,
+         To bring the Child before its time away;
+         This she performs so often, and is Sick,
+         That he at length begins to smoak the Trick;
+         Next time he keeps account, and plains it is,
+         He swears point-blank the Child is none of his.
+
+
+                _The Fourteenth Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         The next a Widow thinks it best to Wed,
+         And takes the knowing Matron to his Bed,
+         A while he quenches her insatiate Fire,
+         But in a little times begins to tire,
+         The _Lady_ soon the difference can find,
+         And truly very plainly speaks her Mind,
+         She twits him of the good departed Man,
+         Whose like, she says, _She ne'er shall see again,
+         He never left me in a Morning so,
+         But took a parting Kiss before he'd go;
+         And get me some Good Thing for Breakfast too:
+         Well, he a dear kind Husband was to me,
+         But now my Days are spent in Misery._
+
+
+                 _The Fifteenth Comfort of Matrimony._
+
+         Last, and not least of all these Comforts is,
+         The Man that's Wedded unto some Disease,
+         A peevish, crazy, and a sickly Wife,
+         The Burthen and the Nusance of his Life;
+         Her Bed, the meer resemblance of a Tomb,
+         And an _Apothecarys_ Shop her Room;
+         Coughing and Spitting all the Night she lies,
+         A very Antidote to Marriage Joys:
+         Yet the poor Man must bear with all these Ills,
+         Besides the Excessive Charge of Physick Bills,
+         A Nurse, fine Cordials, and a hundred things,
+         Until his Substance she to little brings,
+         Till may be she at length resigns to Death,
+         The only Comfort he cou'd hope on Earth.
+
+
+                                FINIS.
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                             Advertisement
+
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+distilling from the Head; and takes away all Soreness, or Redness, or
+Swelling: It also strengthens _weak Eyes_ (Sometimes occasioned by the
+_Small-Pox_) and will disperse any _Film_ or _Cataract_ growing over
+the _Eye_, whereby the Sight oftentimes becomes dim; in a few times
+using this Excellent Remedy, to those that will be perswaded to use it
+often, it will preserve the _Sight_ to an incredible Age, and read the
+smallest of Prints. It being a Secret acquired by a Gentleman in his
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+
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+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                  THE
+                        Batchelors _and_ Maids
+                                ANSWER
+
+                                TO THE
+
+                          _FIFTEEN COMFORTS_
+                                  OF
+                              MATRIMONY.
+
+                                 BEING
+
+           Real Encouragements for all Single Persons
+           of both Sexes to Marry as soon as ever they
+           can get Wives and Husbands, in order to avoid
+           the danger of leading Apes in Hell; with sutable
+           Directions for that purpose.
+
+                 _Dedicated to Married Men and Women._
+
+              _Licensed and Enter'd according to Order._
+
+             _LONDON_, Printed and Sold by _Henry Hills_,
+                in _Black-Fryars_, near the Water-side.
+
+
+
+
+             _The_ Batchelors _and_ Maids _Answer to the_
+                    Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the First Mock Comfort._
+
+       But why shou'd Marriage render Man undone?
+       When nothing's like it underneath the Sun.
+       True Pleasures in the Marriage-Bed alone,
+       Real Joys without it never yet was known.
+       The Charming Bliss in Wedlock chiefly lies,
+       A Single Life all Honest Men despise,
+       What greater Comfort can on Earth be found,
+       When two True Hearts are both together Crown'd.
+       All other Pleasures are but Pains to this,
+       A Married Couple only, finds the Bliss.
+       The Frowns of Fate, and other Worldly Cares,
+       Are daily lessen'd by divided Shares.
+       The mutual Love of Man and Wife dispense,
+       With all the Chances of dark Providence;
+       Nay, If in Prison he shou'd chance to lie,
+       A Loving Wife brings Comforts and Supply.
+       She pays him visits with Delight and Care,
+       And Loves him ne're the less for being there.
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Second Mock Comfort._
+
+       And why shou'd not a Man adore his Wife,
+       Since She's the only Comfort of his Life.
+       A Gift presented by the Gods above,
+       A lively Emblem of the Charms of Love.
+       All o're Divine, a Heaven, here below
+       Man's Paradice, where Joys in Plenty flow.
+       No Shame, but Honour does bless'd Wedlock Crown,
+       And ushers in both Glory and Renown.
+       Sweet pretty Babes, the Product of each Charm,
+       In Marriage-Bed protects us from all harm,
+       Their Innocence like Lambs and Doves appear,
+       Which make our Hearts and Minds quite void of Care.
+       No Sorrow can lay hold of Man or Wife,
+       Where Love and Virtue is the Rule of Life.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Third mock Comfort._
+
+       Oh! Monstrous Man, nay Beast, (I almost said)
+       What cursed Thoughts are got into thy Head?
+       To rail at those to whom thy Life is due,
+       No Mortal yet durst be so vile as you?
+       If whipping _Joan_ was here alive and stout,
+       You do deserve to be well whip'd about.
+       Ten thousand lashes shall adorn thy Bumb,
+       If ever such a whipping Lass should come.
+       'Tis strange a Woman shou'd be so envy'd,
+       Not only mock'd, but shamefully bely'd.
+       With bawdy Gossips, and the Lord knows what,
+       To Name a Child the Husband never got.
+       You call him Fool, and yet that Title claim,
+       And prove your self the Person you wou'd Name.
+       You know it is a Woman's due by Birth,
+       To Scold and Cry, next moment Joy and Mirth.
+       One minute smile, the very next a Frown,
+       Perhaps the next she knocks her Husband down.
+       But what does this to hinder higher Charms?
+       When Joys are fix'd between the Husband's Arms,
+       Such transports are out of the reach of thought,
+       Tis only known where Wedlock Bonds are wrought.
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Fourth Mock Comfort._
+
+       The Marriage-hater here is forc'd to own,
+       The many Comforts which doth Wedlock Crown.
+       But strives to mix it with such Cares and Toil,
+       As if curs'd Malice cou'd such Blessings spoil.
+       Makes Charges frightful on that very score,
+       As if Mankind should ne'er encrease no more;
+       Nay, _Atheist_-like, he makes it ten times worse,
+       And calls _God's Blessings_ nothing but a Curse:
+       Our Sons are Sots, and all our Daughters Whores,
+       Because we keep the Woolf just from the Doors:
+       Was ever Man so void of Sense and Shame,
+       As thus against all Reason to exclaim?
+       As if a Wife her Kindness to impart,
+       Shou'd teaze her Husband as to break his Heart:
+       This is such Stuff as ne'er was heard before,
+       But hope the like again shall see no more.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Fifth Mock Comfort._
+
+       I here agree with this, my Rhiming Foe,
+       And own 'tis Folly when the Case is so;
+       For whatsoe'er the cunning Jilt pretend
+       To her Old Husband, yet she'll have Her Friend;
+       She'll coax the Dotard when his Bags are full,
+       Yet even then graft _Horns_ upon his Skull,
+       Makes him a Beggar to enrich her _Cull_:
+       She seems most fond, till she gets all the _Pence_,
+       And then with Bag and Baggage marches thence;
+       She leaves the Fool without one single _Cross_,
+       To sit, lamenting for his fatal _Loss_.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Sixth Mock Comfort._
+
+       But here I differ from the _Poet's_ Thought,
+       Who says, A _Scold as even good for nought_;
+       For, like _Job's_ Wife, she will Man's Patience try,
+       And bring Repentance too, before he die:
+       Then who'd live single, if a Scolding Wife
+       Works such great Wonders in a Husband's Life?
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Seventh Mock Comfort._
+
+       No modest Woman will disdain her Spouse,
+       Because he seldom peeps into her House;
+       Since Age and Sickness doth the Sport prevent,
+       She'll exercise her Patience with Content:
+       For where all's gone, the _Queen_ must lose Her _Right_,
+       So must a Wife the Pleasure of the Night.
+       A Loving Woman, puts up those Defects,
+       And gives her Husband Honour and Respect;
+       Like Pious _Sarah_, serve him like a _Lord_;
+       Obeys in all things, which do's Peace afford:
+       Their Children too add Pleasure to their Lives!
+       Thus Men are Bless'd, who marry Virtuous Wives.
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Eighth Mock Comfort._
+
+       Why should not Females under Wedlock tyes,
+       Participate with what the Man Enjoys?
+       Man's Second-self must have her share in Mirth
+       A Freedom, which is right to her by Birth:
+       If _Fortune's_ Bounty has encreased her Store,
+       Her _Husband's_ Love to her shou'd be the more;
+       No Cost or Care too much for such a Wife,
+       Whose Vertuous Charms adds Pleasure to the Life:
+       Such _Comforts_ on a married Life depend,
+       There's nothing like a Loving Bosom-Friend.
+       If _Husband's_ Stock is wasted by mischance,
+       A careful Wife will soon the same advance.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Ninth Mock Comfort._
+
+       The Man more often is the cause of Loss,
+       By Drinking, Whoring or some Earthly Cross;
+       Then patient Wife, who yet must bear the Blame,
+       And hide the cause of his notorous Shame;
+       And many times the Sons and Daughters too,
+       Act just the same they see their Father do:
+       And therefore if they chance to go astray,
+       The Father pointed out the crooked way;
+       And yet the Crosses in a married Life
+       Are all imputed to a Tender Wife:
+       And notwithstanding all this knavish Art,
+       It sooner breaks the _Wife's_ than _Husband's_ Heart.
+
+
+                  _Answer to the Tenth Mock Comfort._
+
+       I wonder where this spiteful Author finds
+       such wanton Women, with such lustful Minds;
+       Unless he speaks by knowledg of his own,
+       Whose Lewdness is the Scandal of the Town;
+       If so, he's not mistaken in his Mark,
+       For Joan's _as good as_ Lady _in the Dark_:
+       But 'tis unjust to tax all Womankind,
+       With Vices proper to one single mind.
+       If some are bad, I only this shall say,
+       I pity those that wed with such as they.
+
+
+                _Answer to the Eleventh Mock Comfort._
+
+       This by Experience, as I said before,
+       You speak because you married such a Wh----re;
+       The words themselves as plain, as plain can be
+       Describe your self, that you are only He,
+       The very Actions with your cheating Bride,
+       In lustful Sport, when you lay by her side;
+       How by degrees she did the Fool deceive
+       With fained Blushes make you then believe
+       Her Virgin Fort well fortify'd within,
+       Free from Attacks of such a pleasing Sin:
+       What e'er the Picture wants of being true,
+       Is, that it looks not so deform'd as you.
+
+
+                 _Answer to the Twelfth Mock Comfort._
+
+       Tho' some are blindly led, and others run,
+       And make both haste and speed to be undone;
+       This alters not the Case in any wise,
+       But that a Man sometimes may get a Prize,
+       If some be wanton in obscure Nookes,
+       And _Ape_ the _Saint_, by framing modest Looks;
+       Deceive the Husband, with her cunning Wiles,
+       And cheat his Senses with her feigned smiles,
+       These (I confess,) are hardships to be born,
+       And worse to think the Fore-head tip'd with Horn,
+       But still good Wives, if any such there be,
+       Are real Comforts of a high Degree.
+
+
+               _Answer to the Thirteenth Mock Comfort._
+
+       The Lawyer's Wife is brought in for her share,
+       To recompence her Loving Husband's care;
+       As he by Bribes hath Honest Men undone,
+       She gives to Knaves, what he might call his own.
+       But Drugs and Poysons to a married Wife,
+       I cannot understand it for my Life.
+       For she that has a Husband need not fear,
+       But all Suspicion soon will disappear.
+       No matter where or when the Child was got,
+       It always falls unto the Husband's Lot.
+
+
+               _Answer to the Fourteenth Mock Comfort._
+
+       'Tis true, a Widow always knows the best,
+       To judge those Joys, which some do call a Jest.
+       And if her Second Mate prove weak and dull,
+       With Sorrow then be sure her Heart is full.
+       And who can blame her, if she makes Complaint,
+       For that sweet Comfort to supply her want.
+       Well may she grieve at such a Cross as this,
+       For that one Fault makes all things go amiss.
+       If Husband wants what Widows Nature crave     }
+       He'd better be condemn'd to be a Slave,       }
+       Or make the Raging Sea his Watry Grave.       }
+       But if she finds her Pleasures to encrease,
+       Oh! then (my Husband) _how we live in Peace_.
+       She's then all Charms, no Comforts here below,
+       Are like what she and her dear Spouse do know.
+
+
+                _Answer to the Fifteenth Mock Comfort._
+
+       A Peevish Husband makes a peevish Wife,
+       And so brings Scandal on a Married Life.
+       No wonder then if Sickness and Disease,
+       Brought on by Crosses, doth the Body seize.
+       All this is owing to a hair-brain'd Man,
+       Whose base ill nature all the strife began.
+       Then why shou'd Women thus be stil'd a Curse?
+       When Man himself perhaps is ten times worse.
+       Perhaps you'll say this is proposterous,
+       In blaming others I my self expose.
+       I Answer thus, if it was not for shame,
+       I'd this same Minute quite disown the Name.
+       For Men like you, their Names do sound no more,
+       Than if you call'd an Honest Woman Whore.
+
+
+                                FINIS.
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                            ADVERTISEMENT.
+
+At the _Pastry-School_, over against the _Compter_ in _Shovel-Ally_ in
+_Wood-street_, near _Cheapside_; is Sold, a never failing Oyntment
+that Cures the _GOUT_, altho the Party be reduced to his Crutches,and
+that in two or three Days time; having often been found True by
+Experience, to the great Ease and Comfort of many: It also Cures
+_Rheumatick_ Pains. Likewise a Cure for the _Tooth-Ach_, which
+Infallibly Cures without Drawing.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                              The Fifteen
+                               COMFORTS
+                                  of
+                               Whoring,
+
+                                  OR,
+
+                    _The Pleasures of a Town-Life._
+
+
+                     Dedicated to the Youth of the
+                             present Age.
+
+
+         _By the Author of the Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony._
+
+
+                                LONDON
+                      Printed in the YEAR, 1706.
+
+
+
+
+                             The PREFACE.
+
+_I am in a little pain lest the Title shou'd give Offence to some,
+whom I am unwilling to disoblige; yet I hope be more Judicious, when
+they see the design will allow it both their Pardon and Approbation:
+for 'tis more than a little odds, had I call'd it the Fifteen Plagues
+of Whoring, whether the young Gentlemen most concerned in it, would
+have given themselves the trouble to peruse it. As they are Children
+in their Actions, they must be dealt with like Children, and have
+their Horn-books Gi[*?]ou the back. This is all the Apology I have to
+make; which I hope the Moral will explain, and supply all else that
+might be said upon that Head. Among all other Debaucheries, as the
+principal, and leading Vice, I shall begin with Whoring._
+
+
+
+
+                    The Fifteen Comforts of Whoring
+
+
+                    _The First Comfort of Whoring._
+
+        No sooner Youth throws off his Infant Plays,
+        The harmless Pastime of his happier Days
+        But past a Child, is still in Judgement so,
+        And studies first what he is not to know,
+        Pleasure and Sence his easie Soul entice,
+        Spurr'd forward by his Native Love to Vice:
+        A Mistress now his Fancy entertains,
+        And Youthful Vigour boils within his Brains.
+        The poor lost Maid he do's with Oaths intice;
+        And loads his Soul with twenty Thousand Lyes;
+        Promises Marriage, Love, a hundred things,
+        Till both himself and her, he to destruction brings.
+        At length he finds his falsity repaid,
+        And draws the Curse of Heaven on his Head.
+
+
+                   _The Second Comfort of Whoring._
+
+        By this some Lewder Harlot is Carrest,
+        Who plays the Tyrant in his Am'rous Breast;
+        The Charming Syren touches e'ery String,
+        To keep his busie Fancy on the Wing;
+        All by her whiles, she binds her Captive fast,
+        Sooths him at first, and bubbles him at last.
+        To feed her Pride, clandestine means he'll take,
+        Rob Friends, or Master; for the Harlot's sake,
+        Still to the greatest Ill's he do's descend,
+        And Ruin only; Ruin Seals his End.
+
+
+                 _The Third Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        What Nature has not done, a Harlot will,
+        (For sure Destruction is her boasted Skill:
+        One Scarce to the full Bloom of Life attain'd,
+        Before of Cramps and Aches he complains,
+        Curses the Jilt--looks pale and wan withal:
+        Wither'd like Fruit by their untimely fall,
+        Go's thro' a hated Course of nauseous Pills,
+        And spends a little thousand Pocky Bills:
+        Perhaps at length he do's get free from pain,
+        But the Effects on't all his Life remain.
+
+
+                 _The Fourth Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        Another hardly does escape so well,
+        From Purgatory he drops into Hell;
+        Where like a branded Sacrifice he comes,
+        And in the Flame the Harlot lit, consumes:
+        Of Buboes, Nodes, and Ulcers he complains,
+        Of Restless Days, and damn'd nocturnal Pains.
+        Nor less than into six Weeks Flux he goes:
+        Comes out a Shadow, pale and Meagre shews,
+        If Heaven spare that Ornament his Nose:
+        Thus all his Youthful Vigor's threwn away,
+        And e're his time he dwindles to decay.
+
+
+                  _The Fifth Comfort of a Town Life._
+
+        This married, settled in the Joys of Life,
+        A handsom Trade, and an endearing Wife;
+        Does yet a mind incontinent betray,
+        And for a Night of Pleasure dearly pay:
+        Having received a Favour from his Miss,
+        He kindly gives it to a Friend of his:
+        The Wife, (for that the Marriage Rites say still)
+        Must bear a part both of the Good or Ill.
+        She finds what pity 'tis she e'er had known,
+        Since for no Crime, nor Pleasure of her own,
+        Reveals it to him, knowing not at first,
+        What might the Cause be--tho' she fear'd the worst.
+        He strives to pacifie her twenty ways
+        Blushes--or wou'd do if he'd any Grace.
+        Tells Her the truth in Penetential strain,
+        And vows he'll never do the like again,
+        She weeps, forgives him all--but must endure,
+        The manner, and the Charges of a Cure;
+        Where One in twenty scarce so perfect be,
+        But that they leave it to Posterity.
+
+
+                  _The Sixth Comfort of a Town Life._
+
+        Or where they 'scape the plagues of _Pox_ and _Pills_,
+        The Sin is liable to fifty Ills,
+        Of equal Danger, tho' a diff'rent Cure,
+        As he that dreading Claps wou'd Sin secure;
+        For soon the pliant Wretch he has beguil'd
+        Hath to his Charge and wonder prove with Child:
+        At which, 'tmay properly be said a Man,
+        Leaps from the Fire to the Frying-pan,
+        This for his Reputation sake must be reveal'd
+        When Claps are only as a Jest reveal'd
+        She's now Remov'd--Deliver'd--and the Nurse;
+        Comes thick and threefold to Exhaust his Purse;
+        A blessed Life that woful Mortal bears,
+        With _Nurse_ and _Child_, and _Mother_ in his Ears.
+        Arm'd with a Thousand things that must be had,
+        Till they have drein'd him poor and made him mad:
+        What better (had he been convin'd before,)
+        He had Transgress'd with some Obedient Whore.
+
+
+                _The Seventh Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        Another that he may his Joys secure,
+        Turns _Limbetham_ and keep some Gaudy whore,
+        Thinks her his own--when Satan knows her his mind,
+        Is like her Body not to be confin'd,
+        As constant as the Moon, she plays her part,
+        And like a Viper preys upon his Heart:
+        Draws him so poor, till like her Slaves,
+        Which she bestows on some smart Fop she loves,
+        For this is with 'em a perpetual Rule,
+        They never Love the Person that they fool,
+        This he perceives not till it is too late,
+        Till Ruined in his Person and Estate.
+        And then good Night, when all his money's gone,
+        Miss leaves him too, to ply about the Town.
+
+
+                 _The Eighth Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        But above all--if't be within thy Power,
+        Oh Fate! to Curse me any mortal more,
+        Let him be him that does so wretched prove,
+        To be with some Intriging Jilt in Love:
+        Nay, tho' in part to mollifie his pain,
+        We'll say the Harlot chance to Love again?
+        I mean such Love as Lewdness can impart,
+        Bred in the Blood--but never in the Heart.
+        With softning presents he would Cure her mind,
+        To him, and only to him, to be Kind.
+        But were the _Indies_ all within his Pow'r
+        To give, he would but lavish all his Store,
+        He might confine the Sea, as soon as her.
+        What then (since Love no Rival will submit)
+        Must he indure that with this plague do's meet:
+        When every Thought is Death and Discontent
+        To know, what he wants power to prevent,
+        The case can only this conclusion have,
+        He's twice more wretched than a Galley-slave.
+
+
+                 _The Ninth Pleasure of a Town Life._
+
+        This has some Jilt for a long time sustain'd,
+        Who has Imperious o'er his Pocket reign'd;
+        At length grown weary of so loose a Life,
+        Or for some other Cause, he takes a wife:
+        The Jilt now like a Fury flings and tears,
+        Ten thousand Oaths to be reveng'd she swears:
+        Threatens to come before his very Door,
+        For Whores are plagues that never give you o'er:
+        _There in the open Street to act the Scene,
+        And let the World know what a Spark he's been:
+        This; may be some fair promises prevents,
+        If constantly attended with the pence;
+        For Whores and Fidlers this one Rule advance,
+        Of old; no longer Pipe, no longer Dance.
+        But if the Promis'd Pension he withdraws,
+        The Fury then again Exerts her Claws:
+        Thus he a charge, continual intails,
+        Besides the Curse, the Noise, and all things else;_
+
+
+                  The Tenth Pleasure of a Town Life,
+
+        _Another Harlot works by various means,
+        And acts a Jilt's true part behind the Scenes,
+        [*?]nds the kind Bubble of a pliant Size,
+        And Spreads a subtle Net to catch her Prize,
+        With greater ease to drive him in the same,
+        She first obtains his Residence, and Name,
+        Two useful Perquisites for her design;
+        The Shallow Easie Fop to undermine;
+        A Mesiage next she sends to let him know,
+        Convey'd by some such useful Rogue as R----w;
+        That she's with Child--and by the Love she bore,
+        It must be him--for she was never so before.
+        Which he with wonderful Surprize receives,
+        And for the present some few Guineas gives,
+        Thus he's impos'd on by a wretched Cheat,
+        And er'e he finds it out; pays dearly for his Wit._
+
+
+                 The Eleventh Pleasure of a Town Life.
+
+        _Nor this alone Debauch'ry comprehends,
+        The forward Age to other vice descends,
+        And Youth e're he'as attain'd good Sence to think,
+        Addicts himself with Pride, to swear and drink:
+        [*?]'s Rules Immoral from Example take,
+        And e're he's turn'd of fifteen, turns a Rake:
+        [*?]ots in Sin--(nothing that's Lewd shall scape
+        And on his Virgin Health commits a Rape,
+        Forsaking Reason--grows to Vice a Slave,
+        And e'r he's Thirty drops into his Grave._
+
+
+                  The Twelfth Plague of a Town Life,
+
+        _Another has a better Progress made,
+        And binds himself Apprentice to the Trade;
+        A parboyl'd Sot, without one Spark of Grace,
+        Whose nightly Sins are number'd on his Face:
+        Which with the Rags upon his back make out,
+        The very Arms and Ensigns of a Sot:
+        Who like a Rat into Some Corner goes,
+        And dies Unpittied both by Friends and Foes._
+
+
+                The Thirteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.
+
+        _What do's that Man deserve? to whom his Fate;
+        Has given an ample Stock or an Estate?
+        (That has, perhaps, besides a tender Wife;
+        Yet into Riot and Excess do's fall,
+        And in debauchery consumes it all?
+        And to his Sure Destruction makes such hast;
+        He do's in Body, with his Substance waste:
+        Lives till he want what he had misemply'd
+        And is like one that God had curs'd, Destroy'd._
+
+
+                The Fourteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.
+
+        _But say that this a Constitution has,
+        Firm and unshaken as a pile of Brass
+        Yet who'd Endure the Palsies, aching Heads?
+        The pains, the Qualms, that nightly Drinking breeds?
+        Perpetual disorder draggs him on,
+        Business Neglected, and himself Undone,
+        A Wretched Life he spends till threescore Years,
+        And then the Fruits of Drunkeness appears._
+
+
+                The Fifteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.
+
+        Satyr and couculde--and sum the Evils up,
+        Shew the great wonder how the Land shou'd 'scape,
+        From Fires, Famines, Pestilence and Rage,
+        To crush so vile, so proffligate an Age?
+        For let the Church be Empty as it will,
+        You'll see the Play-house, and the Taverns fill:
+        Whole Afternoons, whole Nights they'll Squander there,
+        Yet can't Spare one poor Minute on't for Pray'r,
+        This is the Sum of a Licentious Town,
+        Where Lewdness is into Example grown.
+
+
+                                FINIS.
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                  THE
+                           Fifteen Comforts
+                                  OF
+                              Cuckoldom.
+
+
+           _Written by a noted Cuckold in the_ New-Exchange
+                           _in the_ Strand.
+
+
+                       Printed in the Year 1706.
+
+
+
+
+                            To the Reader.
+
+_The Town being diverted of late with a great many Comforts, several
+of the Gentlemen and others of the cornuted Society belonging to
+_Horn-Fair_ not thinking those Comforts compleat without them of
+Cuckoldom, they requested me to undertake the Performance thereof, as
+having had some experience for many Years in Wives cokesing their
+Husbands in the very Moment they design'd to put a pair of Antlers on
+their Heads for fear of being gor'd by their Neighbours; whilst other
+good Wives are as often Picking their Husband's Pockets to pay now and
+then for a By-Blow: I have experienced those kind Wives too who are
+commonly upon the religious Point of going to Lectures when alas they
+had no other Business at Church than to meet their Gallants, who
+presently coaches 'em, because they dearly love Jilting. But for
+Brevity passing the several Dispositions of Men's Wives, as such as
+are Melancholly many Times for a Delay or Defeat, whilst others are
+preparing to make their Markets at the Play-house or Spring-Garden; or
+else to the Bath, when Bathing is the least part of their Errand, I
+shall draw to the Comforts which we enjoy by our Wives good Nature to
+others, which to their Fancies is sweet as Muskadine and Eggs._
+
+
+
+
+                       The Fifteen Comforts, &c.
+
+
+                   _The first Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        As I last Night in Bed lay Snoring,
+        I sweetly dreamt of Drinking and of Whoring,
+        Which waking me from a most pleasant Sleep,
+        To my dear Wife I very close did creep,
+        And offering to give her what I shou'd,
+        Quoth she, you Fumbler you can do no good,
+        Give me the Man that never claps his Wings,
+        But always Life and Courage with him brings,
+        'Tis such an one wou'd please; but as for you
+        If Night and Morning some small matter do;
+        You think you've done your due Benevolence,
+        When I with thrice your Labour can dispence.
+        This Reprimand my Courage soon did cool,
+        And fearing Combing with a Three-Legg'd-Stool;
+        I very fairly went to sleep again,
+        And left her of my Manhood to complain.
+
+
+                  _The Second Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        No sooner had I chang'd my single Life,
+        And had confin'd my Carcass to a Wife;
+        But she was always Gadding up and down,
+        To take the various Pleasures of the Town;
+        Howe're I only reckon'd this to be,
+        The airy Frisks of her Minority,
+        Till shortly finding and old Hag wou'd pay
+        Her Visits oft, and take her Day by Day
+        [*?]oad, indeed this gave me some Mistrust,
+        That this old weather beaten Devil must
+        Be some Procurer, and resolv'd to watch
+        Their Waters, where shoul'd I the Bitches catch,
+        But in a Bowdy-house in _Milford-lane_?
+        So going in a Passion home again,
+        At twelve at Night my Doxie likewise came,
+        Whom I in mod'rate Terms began to blame;
+        Telling her that old Witch with whom she went,
+        Abroad a Days by Rogues was only sent
+        About to Wheedle young and tender Maids
+        To Ruine, till they turned common Jades.
+        _You Lie_, reply'd my hopeful graceless Dear,
+        _I'll have you know, I'll never sin in fear,
+        Besides for she of whom you think, Amiss,
+        That sweet obliging Gentlewoman is
+        A tender-hearted Bawd that ne'er made Whore,
+        But ever us'd such as were broke before._
+        Now finding her so bad at Seventeen,
+        Thinks I by that time she has Thirty seen,
+        She'll be a Whore in Grain; but by good hap,
+        She dy'd within a year of Pox and Clap.
+
+
+                   _The third Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        It was my Fortune to be joyn'd to one,
+        As pretty as was shined on by the Sun;
+        For on my word her Eyes were full and gray,
+        With ruddy Lips, round Cheeks, her Forehead lay
+        Archt like a snowie Bank, which did uphold
+        Her natvie Tresses, that did shine like Gold;
+        Her azure Veins, which with a well sharp'd Nose,
+        Her whiter Neck, broad Shoulders to compose:
+        A slender Waste, a Body strait and Tall,
+        With Swan-like Breasts, long Hands, and Fingers small,
+        Her Ivory Knees, her Legs were neat and clean,
+        A Swelling Calf, with Ancles round and lean,
+        Her Insteps thin, short Heels, with even Toes,
+        A Sole most strait, proportion'd Feet, she goes
+        With modest Grace; but yet her Company,
+        Did not a Month enjoy, before that I
+        Was Prest for Sea, and being on the Main,
+        For thirty Months I then return'd again,
+        Where finding in my absence that my Wife
+        Three brats had got, a most unchaste Life
+        Both Day and Night I led the lech'rous Whore;
+        Who seeing how I Curst, and Bann'd, and Swore,
+        A Bag or two she shew'd me cramn'd with Gold,
+        Which Treasure I no sooner did behold,
+        But then I Kist my loving Wife and leapt,
+        For very Gladness that my Horns were Tipt.
+
+
+                  _The fourth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        Above a Year or two I always thought
+        My Wife so good that she cou'd not be naught,
+        Till one Night coming home I caught a Spark
+        Sat in my Parlor by her in the Dark,
+        In mighty Pet I call'd for Candles strait,
+        Doubting that I poor Fool was come too late:
+        T'avert the Burthen which is made to grow
+        On such who enters into Cuckolds Row.
+        Hower'e as I was thinking of the best,
+        And as I nothing saw contented rest,
+        My am'rous Wife's Gallant, before he went,
+        Did shew enough t'encrease my Discontent
+        For he wou'd slily pull her Petticoat,
+        Nod, Wink, and put into her Hand a Note,
+        Whisper her in the Ear, or touch her Foot
+        With many other private Signs to boot,
+        All which confirm'd my Jealousie the more,
+        And made me think 'em to be Rogue and Whore,
+        But as I knew my Wife a bawling Slut,
+        My Horns into my Pocket did I put
+        For Quietness, which yet I seldom had,
+        So I thro' Cuckoldom run really Mad.
+
+
+                   _The fifth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        When I poor I unto a Wife was bound,
+        I wish I had been Bury'd under Ground,
+        For to my Grief I found her both before
+        And after Marriage too to be a Whore.
+        But when I found the Beast of such a Breed,
+        I soldier turn'd, and with a Baw'd agreed
+        To let her out at half a Crown a Week
+        Who undertook she shou'd not be too seek;
+        For Custom, but said, she must for her pains,
+        From th' insatiate Whore have double Gains.
+
+
+                   _The Sixth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        Finding my Wife by Whoring nothing get,
+        But to maintain her Sparks ran me in Debt;
+        Her Whoring gratis made me really vext,
+        So Shop I shut, and fled to _Holland_ next.
+
+
+                  _The Seventh Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        While I was but into the Country gone,
+        To give some Chapmen there the gentle Dun
+        Mean time a Rubbers she with some had play'd,
+        And in the Powd'ring Tub was quickly laid,
+        Unknown to me, and had been secret still,
+        But that the Surgeon bringing in his Bill
+        When I came Home, the Murder so came out,
+        And still my Wife is Whore enough I doubt.
+
+
+                  _The Eighth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        A sordid Lecher coming very old
+        To tempt my Spouse with Silver and with Gold,
+        She told me of't, and said, she cou'd not fawn,
+        On him, or's Gold, to lay her Soul in pawn.
+        By this I thought her Honest, till my maid
+        Inform'd me shortly what Lew'd Tricks she play
+        I Twitted then my Wife's Hypocrisie,
+        Who Impudently did Reply to me;
+        Old Flesh she Loath'd, as having in it left
+        No Gravy, and of all it's Juice bereft,
+        But if the Flesh was Young and to her mind,
+        She'd to one Dish would never be confin'd.
+
+
+                   _The Ninth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        By my Dear Wife, in turning up her Tail
+        To bear the Threshing of her Gallant's Frail,
+        A Groat (which always is a Cuckold's Fee)
+        Under the Candlestick I've laid for me;
+        Besides good Peck and Booze, so till she's Dead,
+        She may and will Whore on to get me Bread.
+
+
+                   _The Tenth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        As Strangers flatter'd with deceitful Snow,
+        Fall in a Deadly Pit they do not know,
+        So was I hamper'd in a Marriage Noose,
+        In Marrying one that did frequent the Stews,
+        As well as Cuckold me at Home; but she
+        Transacting Whoredom with great Secresie
+        Like other Neighbours, to avoid the Name
+        Of Cuckold, I as private hid her shame.
+
+
+                 _The Eleventh Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        When I found Cuckolds to Encrease apace,
+        I Marry'd one with such an Ugly Face
+        That one wou'd thought the Devil wou'd but grotch
+        So foul a Figure as my Wife to touch;
+        Yet being at a Friendly Club one Night,
+        A Raskal came and Cuckol'd me for spight.
+
+
+                  _The Twelfth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        What signifies a Man to fret and fume,
+        Till Grief and Sorrow makes his Flesh consume
+        Because his Wife in Actions may be light
+        And to his Face will horn him Day and Night;
+        This Comfort may alleviate his Woe,
+        That Cuckold's without doubt to Heaven go.
+
+
+                _The Thirteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        If it's my Fate (I oftentimes would cry)
+        To have a Wife that will play wantonly,
+        I soon wou'd tame her, or at least I shou'd
+        Be Hang'd for her but I wou'd make her good.
+        But faith it is my Luck to light upon
+        Such Ware, that will a _Caterwoulling_ run,
+        And cannot help it, for to have her full
+        Of sport, she's run away a Soldiers Trull.
+
+
+                _The Fourteenth Comfort of Cuckoldom._
+
+        When at _Horn-Fair_ I see how ev'ry Year
+        Whole droves of Cuckold's thither do appear
+        The very sight thereof wou'd make one swear
+        That none but Cuckolds in the Nation were;
+        Especially if those who are not known,
+        For Cuckolds too the Title wou'd but own,
+        And such as are not summon'd would appear,
+        In those Accoutrements we ought to wear,
+        Which are our Horns, a Pick Axe and a Spade,
+        That Paths may for our Wives be even laid.
+
+
+                 _The Fifteenth Comfort of Cuckledom._
+
+        If that our wives will tick their Souls on Sin,
+        Tis vain to make about their Ears a din,
+        For that exasperates their will the more,
+        And where in private may in publick Whore;
+        So then the Scandal coming to all Ears,
+        Each Neighbour will not only fling his Jeers
+        Upon us, but the Boys will hoot it too,
+        And point their Fingers at us where we go,
+        As if we were not come of human Blood,
+        Because they do perceive we've Horns to bud;
+        But to avoid so base and curst a Life,
+        The only way's to Live without a wife.
+
+
+                                FINIS.
+
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                  THE
+                           Fifteen COMFORTS
+                                 OF A
+                             Wanton Wife:
+
+                                  OR,
+
+                       _The_ FOOL _Well Fitted._
+
+                  _Dedicated to the_ London-Cuckolds.
+
+                               _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 Lust,
+        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 Hell, with trembling and with fear,
+        Tho' 'twas a Vice he seldom cou'd forbear.
+        So she derides the thing she fancies best,
+        And Damns 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 Lustful 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 lustful 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 Whores, 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 Whore.
+
+
+                         _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 Lustful Knave,
+        And makes her Spouse a Cuckold and a Slave.
+
+
+                         _The Tenth Comfort._
+
+        The Sport's still carry'd on, but under-hand,
+        She seems the Chastest Wife in all the Land,
+        Oh! how she blames her self for former Deeds,
+        And says her Heart within with Sorrow bleeds.
+        Which he believes, because she sheds some Tears,
+        And frees his Mind from Sorrow grief and Cares.
+        She Apes the Saint, by framing Modest Look,
+        Tho' perfect Devil in a Private Nook.
+        Deceives her Husband with her cunning Wiles,
+        And Cheats his Scenses with her feigned Smiles.
+
+
+                        _The Eleventh Comfort._
+
+        Extreamly fond the Cuckold hugs his Choice,
+        Well pleas'd to think the Whore has left her Vice,
+        Gives her fine Cloaths, and Money what she craves,
+        Which she as freely spends on Rogues and Knaves.
+        Her private Stallion now will not suffice,
+        Her Lust encreases as her Favours rise,
+        New Faces Charm the roving Brimstone Jilt,
+        And with each Beau she acts new fancy'd Guilt.
+        When time and place her wickedness denies,
+        She feeds her thoughts with her lascivious eyes.
+
+
+                        _The Twelfth Comfort._
+
+        Yet all this while the Husband thinks his Wife
+        Is Penitent, and leads a Virtuous Life.
+        Because she fawns and flatters Night and Day,
+        He can't believe she'll ever go astray.
+        No Cost he spares to satisfie her Pride,            }
+        But makes her equal with the loftiest Bride,        }
+        While Watch of Gold hangs dangling by her side.     }
+        He strains his Pocket to maintain her high,
+        And freely let's his Gold and Silver fly.
+        Nay, sells his Lands, her Honour to defend,
+        And thus is ruin'd by his Bosom Friend.
+
+
+                       _The Thirteenth Comfort._
+
+        She thus goes on and spends his Wealth so fast,
+        That he begins to think of what is past.
+        Takes notice of her Visits out of Town,
+        And wonders where she's Coach'd so up and down,
+        Enquires of _John_ (who now seems Jealous too)
+        And asks him what he thinks his Wife will do.
+        The Servant's vext, but dares not yet disclose,
+        Not half the Truth of what he really knows.
+        Yet being willing something to impart,
+        Declares he's very sorry at his Heart.
+        To think how much she daily spends in Waste,
+        And adds, he doubts, she is not over Chaste.
+        But shak'd his Head, as if 'twas spoke in jest.
+        And left his Master to find out the rest.
+
+
+                       _The Fourteenth Comfort._
+
+        The Matter having wisely took the hint,
+        Begins to fear there may be something in't.
+        But still unwilling, to expose her shame,
+        He is resolved to tell her of the same.
+        Next Night he took occasion thus to say,
+        _My Dear, pray tell me, where you've been to Day_.
+        I hope (says she) you'll not be Jealous now,
+        D'ye think I'll damn my self to break my Vow?
+        I'd have you know I scorn the thing you fear,
+        Of such foul Deeds my Conscience now is clear.
+        But this I tell you for your further ease,
+        Where I have been, I'll go when e'er I please.
+        Do you think I'll be kept in like a Drone,
+        While others reap the Pleasures of the Town.
+        No Faith, I'll never yield to such hard Fate.
+        To be confin'd; is what I always hate.
+        The Honest Husband hearing what she said.
+        He stood amaz'd, but yet no Answer made.
+        He plainly saw his Ruin coming on,
+        His own Disgrace, and all his Money gone.
+        He now believes what he wou'd not before,      }
+        His Pious Wife is still a Brimstone Whore,     }
+        Who made him Cuckold, and confounded Poor.     }
+
+
+                       _The Fifteenth Comfort._
+
+        Thus wanton Wives are Plagues beyond compare,
+        The Devil's Nets, poor Mankind to ensnare.
+        His Traps to catch a Heedless Sinner in,
+        His Instruments to tempt a Saint to Sin.
+        His curst Decoys to bring Destruction on,
+        And make a Man despair when all is gone.
+        His Factors here on Earth, to Trade in Vice,
+        His Catch-poles to betray us in a trice.
+        His Vermine to consume our very Food;
+        His Leeches to suck out our Precious Blood.
+        His Wolves in Sheeps Apparrel to us sent,
+        To Rob and Spoil us of our true content.
+        His Toads to Poison Soul and Bodies too.
+        And send to Hell more than's the Devil's due.
+
+
+                               _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony:
+Responses from Men, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTEEN COMFORTS OF MATRIMONY ***
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