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The Forgiving Husband and Adulteress Wife

Or, A Seasonable Present to the Unhappy Pair in Fanchurch-Street. By the Author of the Lodon-Spy [i.e. Edward Ward]
 

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The forgiving Husband, and the penitent Adulteress.

Husband.
My dear Lavinia, once the only Joy
Of my kind Soul, and Charmer of my Eye,
Ease of my Cares, and Pleasure of my Bed,
In whom alone I once was happy made;
The Object of my Love, the only She,
Whose Welfare was my chief Felicity;
But now, alas! thy Beauties are declin'd,
Which, undefil'd, with so much Lustre shin'd;
And all those sweet Angelick Graces lost,
Which none but faithful Innocence can boast.
O! how could such a Heav'nly Face and Mein,
By Human Flatt'ries, be seduc'd to sin!
And with Man's lustful Rhetorick be charm'd,
To fall a Victim, when so well fore-arm'd,
And in one Moment, destitute of Grace,
Stain with Hishonour so divine a Face!
But, O! by sad Experience now I find
Fair Looks are no true Index of the Mind;
And that soft Beauty we so much adore,
Tho' with such tempting Graces varnish'd o'er,
Does oft, like luscious Fruits, prove rotten at the Care.


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Wife.
Forgive me, Dear, and ease a Wretch's Pain,
Thou best of Husbands, and the best of Men.
O! let my Tears and Penitence attone
For the sad Ill I have so rashly done.
Pity the Sorrows of a sinful Breast,
Loaded with Grief too great to be exprest.
'Tis true, I have been faithless and unkind,
Deaf to good Counsel, to my Duty blind,
Perverse, unruly, to my Ruine prone,
Forgetful of your Honour, and my own:
But, could unfeign'd Repentance re-obtain
Your Nuptial Love, and wash away my Stain,
From this sad Hour I would my Life renew,
Abhor my Guilt, in Pray'rs devoutly true,
Implore the Mercy of good Heav'n and you.

Husband.
O! that frail Woman should such Charms possess,
Unarm'd with Vertue, and uncrown'd with Grace,
And that such Beauty should be left to stray,
For want of Prudence, to consult the Way;
But harder still, that injur'd Man should bear
Part of the Shame, who'as in the Guilt no Share.
How then, Lavinia, can your 'Spouse forgive,
Who for your Pleasures, does such Pains receive?
Your Crime's too black, and bears to deep a Dye,
Too bad to suffer, worse to pass it by.

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It's true, the Goodness which the Gods extend,
May meet your Pray'rs; their Mercy knows no End.
Nor can our Failings interrupt their Ease;
They're not disturb'd with our Enormities.
Therefore, when Mortals do their Crimes repent,
Heav'n may forgive what Human Nature can't.

Wife.
Should I capitulate at such a Time,
'Twould swell my Guilt, and aggravate my Crime.
Offenders, when they're cast, and Mercy need,
May be allow'd to pray, but not to plead.
Detected Guilt will no Disputes admit.
'Tis Favour to be suffer'd to entreat.
Therefore, since all Excuse must be forborn,
I only beg you'll give me Leave to mourn;
And that my humble Sighs and Tears may move
Your Pity, tho' I've forfeited your Love.

Husband.
'Tis true, the Guilty have no other way
To obtain Mercy, but to weep and pray.
Sorrow's the best Return that can be pay'd,
Where Restitution is not to be made:
Yet Showr's of Tears, alas! are but a small
Attonement for a Crime so capital,
Whose sad Effect the injur'd Breast must feel
As long as Mem'ry can survive the Ill.

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Such monst'rous Crime whole Families torment,
Beyond Forgiveness of the Penitent.
Who then can pardon an Offence so great,
Which Time cannot repair, or Man forget?
An ignominious Blot, that stains so home,
'Twill blacken Generations still to come;
Make your own Children, when they chance to hear
Their Mothers Failings grate upon their Ear;
Dissolve their Duty, doubt their lawful Birth,
And curse the vicious Womb that brought 'em forth.
What Husband then can smother an Offence
Attended with such dreadful Consequence?

Wife.
O! base and wretched Woman, that I am
Most justly doom'd to Misery and Shame;
Nor can I call you cruel or unkind,
Since I've deserv'd worse Usage than I find.
O! that I could but reach some lonely Place,
Where I might ever hide my blushing Face;
Or to some unfrequented Desart run,
Untrod by Man, ungilded by the Sun;
There be compell'd for ever to reside
With Brutes less savage than a faithless Bride.
For what base Wife, who has defil'd her Charms,
Can bear Exclusion from her Husband's Arms,
And live unpity'd, slighted, and contemn'd,
By her best Lover, and her surest Friend?

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O! lend your Sword, that I may ease my Breast,
And send my poor distracted Soul to rest,
That at one Thrust I may my Grief remove,
And pierce that Heart which has betray'd your Love.
Tho' my own Ills my Happiness have crost,
Yet thrown from you, I am entirely lost.
O! who can live a poor discarded Wife?
Death is less Terror, than so base a Life.

Husband.
What Pow'r has faithless Beauty in her Tears?
How Guilt withdraws, when Penitence appears?
You know, Lavinia, once I lov'd you well;
Nor has your Crimes yet chang'd my Heart to Steel.
I cannot hear you so much Grief express,
But still must pity your Unhappiness.
I own, Lavinia, I'm a little mov'd
To ease that Heart I once so dearly lov'd.
Could I forget, methinks I could forgive;
But Crimes like yours, will still unbury'd live;
In the most patient Bosom knawing lie,
And, like the Worm of Conscience, never die.

Wife.
My dearest Husband, O! thou God-like Man,
Could you one Thought of Pardon entertain,
My Love, Obedience, and my pious Life,
Should shew I was become so good a Wife,
That by my future Penitence, I'd blast
The odious Mem'ry of my Follies past;

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Perform my Duty with such humble Care,
That not one Action of my Life should err;
So that we both should bless the happy Time
Your Goodness pardon'd, Of my hated Crime;
My chast Deportment, should in Time perswade
Your peaceful Breast, that I have never stray'd.
Thus the deep Sense of my Misfortunes past,
Shall make me always kind, and always chast.
But if your Heart be harden'd, and your Ears
Are deaf to my repenting Cries and Tears;
If so severe, O! miserable me!
I'm lost, and must for ever wretched be.

Husband.
Such Heav'nly Promises, and such a Flood
Of falling Tears, are not to be withstood:
Such penitential Drops of liquid Jems,
More rich than Pearl on Princes Diadems,
Must bribe a Soul so lenetive as mine,
And make my Heart more sorrowful than thine.
My dear Lavinia, you have charm'd my Breast,
Forc'd me to yield to ev'ry soft Request,
The Vows that flow from your melodious Tongue,
Compel me to forgive the greatest Wrong.
Who can such kind and mournful Accents hear
From so much Beauty, and be still severe?
What dire Revenge upon the worst Offence,
Is able to withstand such Penitence?
Tho' thy past Liberties deserve my Scorn,
I cannot without Pity hear thee mourn.

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I must forgive thee—. From the Ground arise.
Comfort thy Breast, and dry thy flowing Eyes;
And let the future Conduct of thy Life
Shew thee a thanful and obedient Wife:
For Crimes repeated after Pardon given,
Deserve from Man no Mercy, or from Heav'n.

Wife.
O best of Husbands, be for ever blest.
May my past Folly ne'er disturb your Breast;
But from this Time remain a cancel'd Blot,
Untought of as the Child that's unbegot.
O! how shall I reward your gen'rous Mind,
To Patience, Love, and Mercy, thus inclin'd?
By what kind Measures shall I strive to shew
The Gratitude to so much Goodness due?
O! help me, Heaven to improve my Charms,
That I each Night may doubly bless his Arms,
And yield him such Enjoyments, when embrac'd,
That Human Nature ne'er before could taste.
May I that kind and lovely Creature be,
That with his Wishes may the best agree;
Always obliging, diligent, and meek;
And may my Words be Musick when I speak,
That I may charm his Soul with new Delights,
And make his Days as happy as his Nights.
My dearest Husband, you shall find me prove
A faithful Blessing to your future Love;

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An humble Wife, whose Vertues shall attone
For all the Wrongs my foolish Youth has done.
No Pow'r on Earth shall tempt one Thought awry;
The Wiles of Men and Devils I'll defy,
And on your Love for evermore rely.

Husband.
Like your sweet Looks your Promises are fair:
But still such Charms as your must have a Care;
Depend not on your Strength, 'tis Grace alone
Must guard you, if attack'd, from being won.
Woman, by Nature, subject is to change,
Too eas'ly tempted, and inclin'd to range;
Therefore, by humble Pray'rs, make Heav'n your Friend
Without, no Vertue can it self defend.
The Gods alone must guard you from the Fate
That does so oft on female Beauty wait:
Implore their Aid, your Follies past lament,
And I'll forgive and love, tho' I repent:
For how can Man, that seeks Revenge below,
Of Heav'n ask Mercy, if he none will show?

Wife.
O pious Man! how greatly am I bless'd,
To hear such Love and Lenity express'd,
When the base Wrongs, which now I truly mourn,
Deserve no less than Infamy and Scorn?
Had your Resentments your Compassion sour'd,
And your Revenge your Vertues over-power'd,

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How wretched had I been, involv'd in all
The Mis'ries that could curse a Woman's Fall?
But since, O gen'rous Suff'rer, thou ha'st sav'd
A sinful Wife, polluted and deprav'd,
With all Abhorrence I my Crimes abjure,
And date my happy Life from this good Hour;
Will, for the future, Vertue's Paths pursue,
And prove for ever just to Heaven and you.

Husband.
Tho' your unhappy Crimes my Love have Crost,
'Tis pity so much Beauty should be lost.
I must be kind to thy repenting Charms,
And hug my dear Lavinia in my Arms.
All that I now can ask, is, that you'll prove
Futurely faithful, to reward my Love;
Therefore be good and just, that I may see
Forgiveness mends beyond Severity.

Wife.
The gen'rous Pity you have thus bestow'd,
Inspires my humble Soul with all that's good.
After such Mercy, I can ne'er offend
So kind a Husband, and so true a Friend;
But shall my Thoughts and Actions, strictly bind
To Vertue's happy Rules, that you shall find
Your Pardon, to the Comfort of our Lives,
Has made a wortheless Wretch, the best of Wives.


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Moral Reflexion's on the foregoing Dialogue.

How happy is that God-like Man,
Who can forgive Offences,
And wink at such and odious Stain,
That startles human Senses?
The nuptial Treach'ry of the Fair,
Tho' nothing grows more common;
Yet is it hard for Man to bear
Such Vsage from a Woman.
Adultery, the very Name
Is hateful to the Guilty;
The wanton Dame is stabb'd with Shame,
When e'er she's thought so filthy.
When once detected in a Wife,
It proves the Bane of Wedlock;
And she that loves it, ought for Life
To wear a publick Padlock:
But if she turns from Bad to Good,
And mends her ill Behaviour,
'Tis hard repenting Beauty shou'd
Be cast away for ever.
Therefore, when Wives their Weakness shew,
Pass not too harsh a Sentence,
But pardon Wrongs upon their due
Submission and Repentance.
FINIS.