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Nuptial Dialogues and Debates

Or, An Useful Prospect of the felicities and discomforts of a marry'd life, Incident to all Degrees, from the Throne to the Cottage. Containing, Many great Examples of Love, Piety, Prudence, Justice, and all the excellent Vertues, that largely contribute to the true Happiness of Wedlock. Drawn from the Lives of our own Princes, Nobility, and other Quality, in Prosperity and Adversity. Also the fantastical Humours of all Fops, Coquets, Bullies, Jilts, fond Fools, and Wantons; old Fumblers, barren Ladies, Misers, parsimonious Wives, Ninnies, Sluts and Termagants; drunken Husbands, toaping Gossips, schismatical Precisians, and devout Hypocrites of all sorts. Digested into serious, merry, and satyrical Poems, wherein both Sexes, in all Stations, are reminded of their Duty, and taught how to be happy in a Matrimonial State. In Two Volumes. By the Author of the London Spy [i.e. Edward Ward]
  

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Dialogue IX. Between an old drolling Gentleman with a Carbuncle-Nose, and his merry Tallow-fac'd Lady.
  
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Dialogue IX. Between an old drolling Gentleman with a Carbuncle-Nose, and his merry Tallow-fac'd Lady.

Husband.
How do'st, my Dear? thy Brother Dick and I
Have taken a delicious Glass hard by:
We drank your Health, my Love, amongst the rest;
Faith he's a merry Fellow at a Jest.

Wife.
Alas! you need not tell me where you've been;
That, by your fiery Gills, is eas'ly seen:
The blazing Comet that adorns your Face,
Too plainly shews you've hugg'd the juicy Glass;
For drink whate'er you please, the Liquor flows
Into your old repository Nose,
Which when so full it can no more retain,
Will, at one Squeeze, supply the Glass again:
Therefore 'tis needless you so oft should go
To th'Tavern, since you cannot chuse but know,
That what you drink one Day, may be of Use
The next, but press your Rubies for their Juice;

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Nay, twice concocted, it may quench your Thirst
The second Time much better than the first.
Prithee, my Dear, come hither, you shall see
I'll make your Grapes yield Claret presently.

Husband.
How now, you Flirt! would you with Icy Hands
Prophane that Nose which in such Splendor stands;
That rev'rend Ornament which shines so bright,
And warms its Neighbours in a Frosty Night?
Stand off, thou pale Diana, come not near;
When the Sun shines, the Moon shou'd disappear.
Thy frozen Face extinguishes my Light,
And with its ghastly Looks, offends my Sight:
My glowing Nose, like burnish'd Gold, displays
A thousand dazzling and delightful Rays;
Flames like an Altar set on Fire, to move
The angry Gods to shew their wonted Love;
Whilst thy pale Snout dishonours human Race,
And proves a Scandal to a Christian Face.

Wife.
I'll swear you'd need applaud your fiery Beak,
That scorches, as it stands, each neighb'ring Cheek
As if your burning Mountain meant to prey,
Like Ætna, upon all Things in its Way.
Indeed, my Precious, if you thus carouse,
I'll have a Water-Engine in the House;
For if your chimick Nose has got the Skill
To extract Fire from Liquors that you swill,

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Who knows, i'th' Night but your Grenado Head
May sneeze forth Lightning, and inflame my Bed?
Therefore, my Dear, I think its Time to shew
Our Care against such Dangers; what say you?

Husband.
My harmless Face will no such Aid require;
For thou'rt all Ice, as sure as I am Fire.
Lie thou but close to me, you need not doubt
To stop the Mischief ere the Flames break out;
The Water-Engine which you long have worn,
Will do the Feat, and quench me when I burn.
So Salamanders, 'less Report's a Ly'r,
With their cold Touch, subdue the fiercest Fire.
Thy frigid Nature does like Death appear,
And frozen Looks, shew Winter all the Year;
Whilst I, like sultry Summer, glow with Heat,
And with my flaming Nose, make others sweat.

Wife.
You'd need to boast of such a scarlet Snout,
So rough, so fiery, and so large about,
Whose blushing Glories ought to be your Shame,
Because t'Excess it owes its costly Fame.
What are your Rubies, but an odious Sign
That you're a Drunkard, and a Slave to Wine;
A Sot that hugs the Tavern Flask so close,
That Grapes in Bunches ripen round your Nose?
From whence do all those crimson Welks arise,
But from Intemp'rance and Debaucheries?

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What makes your red Pimgennets shine so bright,
But gorging Bumpers in the Mid of Night,
Swilling, like Swine, at Revels that you keep,
Whilst wiser Mortals do enjoy their Sleep?
It's a great Honour, and a mighty Grace,
For Man to bear his Vices in his Face;
That as the Indian Snake his Age declares
By th'sundry Rattles in his Tail he wears;
So all that view your mangy Nose, may read,
In Scores of Rubies, what a Life you lead,
And, by their fresh and fiery Aspect, tell
What vicious Wine it is you love so well.
In my pale Countenance, the World may see
My female Temperance and Modesty,
And that I keep no private Closet Drams,
To drink unseen behind devouter Shams;
Or that I gossip with a tatling Crew
Of female Tiplers, till as drunk as you;
And when my Brains with Punch or Brandy flame,
Pretend the Vapours, to conceal my Shame.
My languid Looks sufficiently declare,
That I'm abstemious, as becomes the Fair,
Giv'n to no Vice that does my Face disguise,
Or shew its ill Effects in Nose or Eyes;
Whilst your Carbuncle Phiz in Triumph glows,
And bears your drunken Trophies round your Nose,
As if you'd conquer'd Thousands o'er the Glass,
Like Sampson, with the Jaw-bone of an Ass:

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Therefore, since flaming Snout your Conquests show,
And your victorious Gills so famous grow,
Prithee, dear Turky-Cock, let's hear you crow.

Husband.
You Death-like Flirt, how dare you thus disgrace
So rich a Nose, on such a glorious Face?
You Cake of Snow, cemented by the Frost,
Were you once thaw'd, the Woman would be lost;
Begot in Eighty Four on Icy Thames,
When freezing Boreas had congeal'd its Streams.
Dare such a Winter's Brat prophane a Phiz
That warms the Air, and makes the Waters hiss;
A Face where Rocks of wealthy Rubies grow,
And Fountains of salubrious Claret flow?
I say, be silent, let my Nose alone,
The Theme's too great for you to preach upon;
So rich a copious Text is only fit
For jolly Priests and Poets fam'd for Wit:
I'd have thee therefore let the Subject drop,
So learn'd a Thesis is of wond'rous Scope,
And let's, like loving Friends, to Bed retire,
That we may kiss and hiss like Ice and Fire.