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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| XVI. | Dialogue XVI. Between a fond Gentleman, and his coaxing Lady.
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 | Nuptial Dialogues and Debates |  |
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Dialogue XVI. Between a fond Gentleman, and his coaxing Lady.
Husband.That Look, my Dear, was very kind, I vow:
What charming Smiles are seated on your Brow?
How fond and gay you of a sudden prove,
All over Beauty, Pleasantry, and Love?
Did you but know how this engaging Air
Becomes a Woman so divinely fair,
Sure you would never, in your Dumps, disguise,
With sullen Pouts, the Lustre of those Eyes;
But let your Spouse be always happy in
The native Sweetness of your lovely Mein.
Wife.
Women at all Times can't alike be free,
The best will now and then ill-humour'd be.
I hope I'm courteous and obliging now;
I'd always please you, if I knew but how.
Did I not hug you in my Arms last Night,
And summon all my Charms to your Delight?
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Call you my Dear, as a good Wife should do?
Be you respectful, you shall ever find
That I'll be humble, diligent, and kind:
But if you're slighting, peevish, and perverse,
In short, 'twill make me prove as bad, or worse.
Husband.
I know, Belinda, that your Frowns are oft
The politick Effects of Female Craft.
You can seem angry, tho' your Mind's sedate,
And hide your Love with a dissembl'd Hate;
Be peevish, slighting, petulent, and soure,
On purpose to exert your Beauty's Pow'r;
That when your Frowns are vanish'd from your Brows,
Your Smiles may prove more welcome to your Spouse.
So misty Vapours from the Earth arise,
And for a Time hide Phœbus from our Eyes;
But when dispers'd the God the brighter seems,
And we with greater Joy behold his Beams.
Wife.
Frowns are Advantages to female Smiles;
A Woman's Poutings, are her Beauty's Foils.
A Teaze in Season, but ferments the Blood,
Revives the Spirits, does a Husband good.
Lovers should jar, sick Fancy to restore,
And hug the closer when the Quarrel's o'er.
Were't not for clashing, Love would soon decay;
And Time with less Delight would slide away.
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Are recompens'd at Night with double Joys;
Such that are hid from that insipid Life,
Where dull Indiff'rence reigns 'twixt Man and Wife:
For Love, like Musick, cannot perfect be,
'Less Discord's rightly mix'd with Harmony.
Husband.
'Tis true, some Jars in Wedlock, that arise,
Whet but our Appetites to nuptial Joys;
Yet there are some Disputes, that disunite
Our Hearts, and disappoint us of delight;
Such that do oft turn mutual Love to Hate,
And in revengeful Malice terminate:
For Love, that with the greatest ardour burns,
If ill rewarded, to Aversion turns.
As the best Wines, if not preserv'd with Care,
Will soon become the sharpest Vinegar.
Wife.
But what must be the Cause of such Disputes,
That can change Lovers to such angry Brutes,
And make them so revengeful and absurd,
As strive to ruin what they once ador'd?
Were all the vexing Discords to arise,
That Wedlock could produce, or Fate devise,
No Malice my Affections should suppress,
Or make me love my Dear one jot the less.
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I'm glad, Belinda, you are so resolv'd;
But you in Cares have ne'er been yet involv'd;
You've no Occasion to disturb your Rest;
No Provocations to inflame your Breast;
No jealous Conflicts to distract your Soul;
No stubborn Spouse your Humour to controul;
No beauteous Rival kept beneath your Nose;
No sordid Threats, no brutish Kicks or Blows;
No angry, cross-grain'd Fool, no Midnight Rake;
No Beastly Sot, to spew upon your Back;
No Claps brought Home, no Bastards kept at Nurse;
No saucy Duns, or that which still is worse,
The Curse of Curses, an insolvent Purse.
But you in Cares have ne'er been yet involv'd;
You've no Occasion to disturb your Rest;
No Provocations to inflame your Breast;
No jealous Conflicts to distract your Soul;
No stubborn Spouse your Humour to controul;
No beauteous Rival kept beneath your Nose;
No sordid Threats, no brutish Kicks or Blows;
No angry, cross-grain'd Fool, no Midnight Rake;
No Beastly Sot, to spew upon your Back;
No Claps brought Home, no Bastards kept at Nurse;
No saucy Duns, or that which still is worse,
The Curse of Curses, an insolvent Purse.
Would not these Plagues your female Patience move,
And try your boasted Vertue, and your Love?
But you have all Things that can please your Mind,
A lib'ral Fortune, and a Husband kind;
And therefore know not what it is to fear
The Usage other Wives are forc'd to bear.
And try your boasted Vertue, and your Love?
But you have all Things that can please your Mind,
A lib'ral Fortune, and a Husband kind;
And therefore know not what it is to fear
The Usage other Wives are forc'd to bear.
Wife.
Hardships, like these, I own might prove too great
For feeble Woman to sustain their Weight.
Had any Mistress in your Heart a share,
I must confess I no Revenge should spare.
The patient'st Wife alive, could never, sure,
A Rival in her nuptial Bed endure:
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A Woman's Folly, to her publick Shame,
And shew the Wretch ridiculously tame:
Or should you strike me in an angry Mood,
You may be sure I'd poys'n you, if I cou'd:
But Men, like you, of Breeding and of Birth,
Can ne'er so far degen'rate from your Worth.
Blows only pass 'twixt Porters and their Trulls,
Where brutish Rage, instead of Reason, rules,
Those of our Rank, altho' the Cause be great,
Should scorn to jar at such a scoundrel Rate.
All but these grand Abuses, as I live,
I could forget, nay, heartily forgive;
But Blows and Rivals are Affronts so evil,
They'd make an Angel of a Wife turn Devil.
Husband.
My dear Belinda, I am past my Hour;
I should have been at Charing-Cross by Four:
Your pleasant Talk has spurr'd on Time too fast;
Farewel, my Dear; excuse me, I'm in Haste.
Wife.
But stay, my Dear, I have a small Request;
I'm sure you need not be in so much Haste.
I promis'd, Child, at six a-Clock, to go
To Madam Sharp's, to meet my Lady Loo;
My Lady Quickdeal, and Sir John's new Bride;
My Lady Patch, and sev'ral more beside.
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I shall have mighty Luck, I dare to say,
Because we've been so loving all this Day.
But, by this Kiss, my Dear, you must supply me
With twenty Guineas; prithee don't deny me.
A Purse of Gold, at such a Time, you know
Looks well, and makes a creditable Show.
Husband.
I must confess, I was amus'd to find
Belinda so extreamly fond and kind;
But now the Cause is clear: Yet there's my Keys;
Prove always so and take what Gold you please.
I know, my Dear, a Wife would think it hard,
Dissembl'd Goodness should have no Reward.
Belinda so extreamly fond and kind;
But now the Cause is clear: Yet there's my Keys;
Prove always so and take what Gold you please.
I know, my Dear, a Wife would think it hard,
Dissembl'd Goodness should have no Reward.
Therefore the Man that would preserve his Life,
Free from the teazing Humours of his Wife,
Must ne'er be backward, in a marry'd State,
To purchase Ease at an expensive Rate:
For a proud Wife kept poorly, or controul'd,
Will surely prove a Harlot, or a Scold.
Free from the teazing Humours of his Wife,
Must ne'er be backward, in a marry'd State,
To purchase Ease at an expensive Rate:
For a proud Wife kept poorly, or controul'd,
Will surely prove a Harlot, or a Scold.
| Nuptial Dialogues and Debates | |