Vulgar words in The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses from Men (Page 1)
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~ ~ ~ Sentence 21 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 73 ~ ~ ~
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?
~ ~ ~ Sentence 83 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 107 ~ ~ ~
For Men like you, their Names do sound no more, Than if you call'd an Honest Woman Whore.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 112 ~ ~ ~
* * * * * The Fifteen COMFORTS of Whoring, OR, _The Pleasures of a Town-Life._ Dedicated to the Youth of the present Age.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 115 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 119 ~ ~ ~
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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 122 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 125 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 131 ~ ~ ~
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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 132 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 140 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 162 ~ ~ ~
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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 167 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 168 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 170 ~ ~ ~
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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 171 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 172 ~ ~ ~
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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 173 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 174 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 177 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 184 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 218 ~ ~ ~
Impetuous in her ways; abruptly bold, The worst of Whores, yet must not be controul'd.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 233 ~ ~ ~
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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 243 ~ ~ ~
_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.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 261 ~ ~ ~
I hope (says she) you'll not be Jealous now, D'ye think I'll damn my self to break my Vow?
~ ~ ~ Sentence 270 ~ ~ ~
He now believes what he wou'd not before, } His Pious Wife is still a Brimstone Whore, } Who made him Cuckold, and confounded Poor.}