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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| I. | DIALOGUE I. Between a Great Man Sentenc'd to the
Scaffold, and his Vertuous Lady at their last parting.
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 | Nuptial Dialogues and Debates |  |
1
DIALOGUE I. Between a Great Man Sentenc'd to the Scaffold, and his Vertuous Lady at their last parting.
Lord.Good Heav'n support thee in this flood of Grief,
And give thy Breast some adequate Relief,
Comfort thy Soul, in thinking we e're long
Shall meet above, where none can do us wrong:
Consider all Mankind must stoop to Fate,
We're bound to pass the Adamantine Gate.
No Prince one Moment is secure of Breath,
All are born Subjects to that Tyrant Death.
'Tis but a Journey in a lowring Day,
Made tiresome by the badness of the Way,
I'm only riding Post to that long home,
Where all, in spite of Pow'r and Wealth, must come
Why therefore should you thus in Silence mourn?
You soon may follow, tho' I can't return.
What! tho' I'm hurry'd to the Grave, depend
You'll once o'ertake me at my Journey's end.
Correct your Female Passions that disguise
Your Prudence, and inflame those beauteous Eyes:
2
'Twill ease your swelling Sorrows if you speak.
Besides, such briny Show'rs encrease the Storm,
And do my Soul of all its Pow'r disarm;
Weaken those Resolutions that defy
The stroke of Death, when he's advanc'd so nigh;
Make me unable to despise a Life
That's blest with such a kind and vertuous Wife.
Lady.
O! help me, Heaven, in this sad distress,
What can I say, or how my Grief express?
Who can such cruel Enemies forgive?
What Wife sustain so great a Loss and live?
Pardon my Sorrows, give me leave to mourn,
Betwixt Revenge and Love I'm rack'd and torn.
O! tender Husband, O! insatiate Foes,
To sacrifice your Life and my repose.
What shall I do, that may prolong your Breath?
How shall I snatch you from the Jaws of Death?
O! that good Heav'n would hear my humble Pray'rs,
And lengthen this sad Day to joyful Years,
Or by some speedy Miracle declare,
Its just abhorrence of the Wrongs we bear.
With-hold the Blow, postpone the fatal Hour,
And stop the Cruelty of Human Pow'r.
3
It is in vain to hope to be releas'd,
For Miracles, my Dear, you know are ceas'd:
Nor can an angry Monarch Mercy show,
Whose dire Revenge sits low'ring on his Brow.
I only now must reconcile my Breast,
To that sharp stroke which gives eternal Rest;
That I may shew, when Death approaches near,
The ghastly Bugbear is not worth my Fear.
For Miracles, my Dear, you know are ceas'd:
Nor can an angry Monarch Mercy show,
Whose dire Revenge sits low'ring on his Brow.
I only now must reconcile my Breast,
To that sharp stroke which gives eternal Rest;
That I may shew, when Death approaches near,
The ghastly Bugbear is not worth my Fear.
But, O! my Dear, the only Sting I feel,
That gives me Pain too pow'rful to conceal,
Is my sad parting with the best of Wives,
To me more precious than a Thousand Lives.
How shall my tender Soul with Patience bear,
To leave thee wretched, full of wild despair,
Expos'd to all those Passions that perplex,
At such a dismal time, thy weaker Sex?
That gives me Pain too pow'rful to conceal,
Is my sad parting with the best of Wives,
To me more precious than a Thousand Lives.
How shall my tender Soul with Patience bear,
To leave thee wretched, full of wild despair,
Expos'd to all those Passions that perplex,
At such a dismal time, thy weaker Sex?
But hold, What is't I do? for I should arm
Thy tender Breast against the great alarm,
Instruct thee how to bear the dreadful weight
Of Sorrows that attend thy Husband's Fate.
Thy tender Breast against the great alarm,
Instruct thee how to bear the dreadful weight
Of Sorrows that attend thy Husband's Fate.
Chear up, my Dear, be not so much dismaid,
Summon your Christian Vertues to your Aid,
Consider that no Sparrow to the Ground
Can fall, by Man, but Heav'n permits the Wound.
We all are bound with Patience to submit
To ev'ry Change that God himself thinks fit.
Why therefore should we Murmur? when we know,
The Pow'r above us governs all below;
By God's Permission all these things are done,
For Reasons only to his Wisdom known,
And if we humbly do our Cross sustain,
Our Losses here will prove our future Gain;
When if we Frown at Heaven's just Decrees,
Perhaps we hazard our eternal Ease.
So Kings and Judges take the self-same Course,
And punish those that Cavil, but the worse.
Summon your Christian Vertues to your Aid,
Consider that no Sparrow to the Ground
Can fall, by Man, but Heav'n permits the Wound.
We all are bound with Patience to submit
To ev'ry Change that God himself thinks fit.
4
The Pow'r above us governs all below;
By God's Permission all these things are done,
For Reasons only to his Wisdom known,
And if we humbly do our Cross sustain,
Our Losses here will prove our future Gain;
When if we Frown at Heaven's just Decrees,
Perhaps we hazard our eternal Ease.
So Kings and Judges take the self-same Course,
And punish those that Cavil, but the worse.
Lady.
Alas! my Dear, but Heaven is too good,
To be severe, or to delight in Blood.
O! dreadful Sound, the very sanguine Name
Does all my Passions with Revenge inflame.
O! that I had but Pow'r to hold the Hand
Appointed to obey this dire Command,
Or that I could by Torments but extort,
A Pardon from the base revengeful Court.
Could Female Force or Fury but delay
The tragick Scene, and stop the fatal Day;
I could forget my Sex, a Tyrant prove,
Postpone my Christian Duty to my Love,
Make your proud Enemy revoke your Doom,
Or strike his Breast with Female Vengeance home.
To be severe, or to delight in Blood.
O! dreadful Sound, the very sanguine Name
Does all my Passions with Revenge inflame.
O! that I had but Pow'r to hold the Hand
Appointed to obey this dire Command,
Or that I could by Torments but extort,
A Pardon from the base revengeful Court.
Could Female Force or Fury but delay
The tragick Scene, and stop the fatal Day;
I could forget my Sex, a Tyrant prove,
Postpone my Christian Duty to my Love,
Make your proud Enemy revoke your Doom,
Or strike his Breast with Female Vengeance home.
Forgive my Passion, I'm too weak to bear
The wretched Loss of him I love so dear.
Have I so long a happy Life possest,
Been dearly tender'd and too highly blest;
Nurs'd from my Youth beneath your Nuptial Care,
Cherish'd and lov'd as if divinely Fair?
Have I indulg'd you with a beauteous Race,
Whose Infant Charms their pregnant Gifts express,
And in whose graceful Features may be view'd,
The early Signs of all that's Great and Good?
Have I these sweet Delights enjoy'd for Years,
And must one Moment drown us all in Tears?
Must my dear Children Fatherless be left,
And my poor self be of my Spouse bereft?
Must one revengeful Stroke afflict us all,
And leave us wretched to lament your Fall?
Must I to all my Comforts bid farewel,
And grieve for ever in a Mourning Veil?
O! let them take, with thine, my anxious Life,
Curs'd be the Hand that sep'rates Man and Wife.
With thee, like Aria, could I gladly feel
The sharp Effects of the destructive Steel,
That the proud Tyrant might appease his Wrath,
And glut his Vengeance with the Lives of both.
The wretched Loss of him I love so dear.
Have I so long a happy Life possest,
Been dearly tender'd and too highly blest;
5
Cherish'd and lov'd as if divinely Fair?
Have I indulg'd you with a beauteous Race,
Whose Infant Charms their pregnant Gifts express,
And in whose graceful Features may be view'd,
The early Signs of all that's Great and Good?
Have I these sweet Delights enjoy'd for Years,
And must one Moment drown us all in Tears?
Must my dear Children Fatherless be left,
And my poor self be of my Spouse bereft?
Must one revengeful Stroke afflict us all,
And leave us wretched to lament your Fall?
Must I to all my Comforts bid farewel,
And grieve for ever in a Mourning Veil?
O! let them take, with thine, my anxious Life,
Curs'd be the Hand that sep'rates Man and Wife.
With thee, like Aria, could I gladly feel
The sharp Effects of the destructive Steel,
That the proud Tyrant might appease his Wrath,
And glut his Vengeance with the Lives of both.
Lord.
My Dear be easy, Kings must be obey'd,
The tott'ring Crown's impatient for my Head.
Bleeding's the only speedy Cure that's known
To our State Quacks for a distemper'd Throne.
A Hectick Fever long has reign'd at Court,
'Tis now high time that some be blooded for't.
One to asswage their Heat must feel the Blow,
Or the whole Juncto will delirious grow;
And then perhaps the Frenzy might incline
The Wolves to aim at greater Heads than mine.
The tott'ring Crown's impatient for my Head.
Bleeding's the only speedy Cure that's known
To our State Quacks for a distemper'd Throne.
A Hectick Fever long has reign'd at Court,
'Tis now high time that some be blooded for't.
One to asswage their Heat must feel the Blow,
Or the whole Juncto will delirious grow;
6
The Wolves to aim at greater Heads than mine.
Why should a Subject Peer repine at Fate,
Since Kings themselves have met with Falls as great
The best of Princes has been forc'd, e're now,
To grace the Scaffold with his awful Brow,
And to receive the last deciding Stroke,
Stoop down his Head to the tremendous Block.
Why then should feeble Nature be inclin'd
To save that Life which is for Death design'd,
When one kind Moment will appease my Breast,
And put each active lab'ring Pulse at rest?
Since Kings themselves have met with Falls as great
The best of Princes has been forc'd, e're now,
To grace the Scaffold with his awful Brow,
And to receive the last deciding Stroke,
Stoop down his Head to the tremendous Block.
Why then should feeble Nature be inclin'd
To save that Life which is for Death design'd,
When one kind Moment will appease my Breast,
And put each active lab'ring Pulse at rest?
In Death, alas, what is there to be fear'd,
That Man should with its near approach be scar'd?
'Tis but a parting Sigh, in which we spend
That worthless Breath on which our Lives depend;
A Farewel that the Soul in Triumph takes,
When for more Freedom she her Prison breaks,
That with swift Wings she may surmount the Sky,
And to her last eternal Dwelling fly,
Whete she may sit enthron'd among the blest,
And Joys immense regale the welcome Guest.
That Man should with its near approach be scar'd?
'Tis but a parting Sigh, in which we spend
That worthless Breath on which our Lives depend;
A Farewel that the Soul in Triumph takes,
When for more Freedom she her Prison breaks,
That with swift Wings she may surmount the Sky,
And to her last eternal Dwelling fly,
Whete she may sit enthron'd among the blest,
And Joys immense regale the welcome Guest.
What have I done to interrupt my Flight,
From Death's dark Mansions to eternal Light?
Sin is a Curse intail'd upon Mankind,
But still the humble Soul will Mercy find.
Why therefore should I doubt, or why distrust
Almighty Goodness, which is always Just?
From Death's dark Mansions to eternal Light?
Sin is a Curse intail'd upon Mankind,
But still the humble Soul will Mercy find.
Why therefore should I doubt, or why distrust
Almighty Goodness, which is always Just?
7
O burthen not your Breast with wild Despair,
Your Christian Life has kept your Conscience clear,
The Great Tribunal, be assur'd, will show
More Mercy than your cruel Peers below,
Who scan the Justice of each doubtful Cause,
More by their partial Int'rest than the Laws.
You have no Reason to afflict your Mind
With future Dangers, when your Soul's resign'd;
A heav'nly Quire the dreadful Moment wait,
And weep, like me, at your approaching Fate.
Methinks I see 'em round the Scaffold fly,
To bear you on their Wings to endless Joye
O! that I was but worthy to attend
Your happy Soul to its blest Journey's end,
For tho' 'tis doom'd to pass a rugged way,
The gloomy Path will lead you to eternal Day.
Your Christian Life has kept your Conscience clear,
The Great Tribunal, be assur'd, will show
More Mercy than your cruel Peers below,
Who scan the Justice of each doubtful Cause,
More by their partial Int'rest than the Laws.
You have no Reason to afflict your Mind
With future Dangers, when your Soul's resign'd;
A heav'nly Quire the dreadful Moment wait,
And weep, like me, at your approaching Fate.
Methinks I see 'em round the Scaffold fly,
To bear you on their Wings to endless Joye
O! that I was but worthy to attend
Your happy Soul to its blest Journey's end,
For tho' 'tis doom'd to pass a rugged way,
The gloomy Path will lead you to eternal Day.
But I, my dearest Lord, poor wretched I,
Must Live, a Torment worse than 'tis to Die;
In Solitude remain, perhaps, for Years,
And drown my anxious Hours in Floods of Tears:
For what on Earth can Woman's Grief remove,
Depriv'd o'th' only Object of her Love,
Left to reflect upon a painful Life,
Void of all Comfort when no more a Wife?
Where's all the Pomp that does on Riches wait?
Alas! how dang'rous is it to be Great?
Who would on Wealth for Happiness depend,
Since all must in one fatal Moment end?
What avails Honour, Equipage, or Dress?
Where's flatt'ring Friendship in this sad Distress?
They're all but Shadows when the Mind's dismaid,
That vanish when we most require their Aid.
How blest are those who, in an humble Sphere,
Enjoy but little, yet have less to fear,
Who in a rural Cottage sit content,
And dread no fatal Frowns of Government,
But Sow with Labour, Reap the kind encrease,
And free from Envy eat their Bread in Peace.
Must Live, a Torment worse than 'tis to Die;
In Solitude remain, perhaps, for Years,
And drown my anxious Hours in Floods of Tears:
For what on Earth can Woman's Grief remove,
Depriv'd o'th' only Object of her Love,
Left to reflect upon a painful Life,
Void of all Comfort when no more a Wife?
Where's all the Pomp that does on Riches wait?
Alas! how dang'rous is it to be Great?
Who would on Wealth for Happiness depend,
Since all must in one fatal Moment end?
8
Where's flatt'ring Friendship in this sad Distress?
They're all but Shadows when the Mind's dismaid,
That vanish when we most require their Aid.
How blest are those who, in an humble Sphere,
Enjoy but little, yet have less to fear,
Who in a rural Cottage sit content,
And dread no fatal Frowns of Government,
But Sow with Labour, Reap the kind encrease,
And free from Envy eat their Bread in Peace.
O! that we'd both been destin'd to the Plains,
Where o'er his Flocks the Rural Shepherd reigns,
Does Bag and Bottle to his Comfort bring,
And Feasts with twice the Pleasure of a King;
Then had we still been safe, and blest, below
The dire Revenge that does insult us now,
Liv'd unmolested in a State secure,
Free from the stormy Rage of angry Pow'r,
Which like a Thunder-Cloud its Lightning throws,
And thro' the strongest Bulwark strikes its Foes.
But we, alas, are now past all Relief,
You're doom'd to Silence, I to endless Grief;
For all the World affords can ne'er abate
Those swelling Sorrows that attend your Fate:
On loathsome Earth I still must wretched be,
Whilst you enjoy a blest Eternity.
Where o'er his Flocks the Rural Shepherd reigns,
Does Bag and Bottle to his Comfort bring,
And Feasts with twice the Pleasure of a King;
Then had we still been safe, and blest, below
The dire Revenge that does insult us now,
Liv'd unmolested in a State secure,
Free from the stormy Rage of angry Pow'r,
Which like a Thunder-Cloud its Lightning throws,
And thro' the strongest Bulwark strikes its Foes.
But we, alas, are now past all Relief,
You're doom'd to Silence, I to endless Grief;
For all the World affords can ne'er abate
Those swelling Sorrows that attend your Fate:
On loathsome Earth I still must wretched be,
Whilst you enjoy a blest Eternity.
Lord.
I fear not Death, or the dividing Steel,
My Care for you is all the weight I feel;
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One cannot Grieve but t'other shares the Pain.
I therefore beg your Tears may be forborn,
It melts my Soul to see such Goodness mourn,
Subdues that Christian Courage which should arm
A Breast that's sinking in so black a Storm.
He who to please a King in publick dies,
Should the grim Ghost and all his Stings despise.
Consider, Dear, 'tis Cowardice to pine,
Or flinch at what superior Foes enjoin:
Too much Concern is the effect of Fear,
The Brave should slight the Wrongs they're forc'd to bear:
He that scorns humane Pity, and is free
To suffer, disappoints his Enemy.
Therefore, 'tis better boldly to embrace
Our Fate, than to ask Mercy with Disgrace.
Then cease your Tears, and let the Pow'rful see,
We've Patience equal to their Cruelty,
And with a Christian Temper can sustain
The worst Results of so severe a Reign.
The Brave, the Just, the Gen'rous and the Great
Should with a Breast undaunted meet their Fate,
Sedately suffer what they can't oppose,
And shew their Vertues greater than their Woes.
Lady.
Grief against Reason, will, alas, rebel;
In spite of Precepts Nature will prevail:
I must lament my Loss to an Extream,
And suit my Sorrows to my high esteem,
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In due proportion to my tender Love.
A Flood of undissembl'd Tears best shews,
How much we value what we fear to lose.
Who then can cease to weep away her Hours,
Depriv'd at once of all that she adores;
Left in a wretched Kingdom to become
The Scorn of those who have conspir'd your Doom:
O! let my Passions rend my trembling Heart,
And Female Grief its utmost Pow'rs exert,
Till my Valves burst, and every Vein supplies
With sanguinary Tears my flowing Eyes;
Thus all Relief from my sad Breast exclude,
And melt at once into a briny Flood.
Lord.
I can no longer hear you thus deplore
Your own Misfortunes and my fatal Hour.
The sullen Moment now approaches near,
That hurries me, alas, I know not where:
Unweary'd Time flies from me now apace,
Who brandishes his Scythe and shakes his Glass.
For my sad Journey I must now prepare,
And manage my last Stake of Life with Care.
Farewel thou best of Wives; and must I say,
For Ever, that's a long eternal Day.
It cannot be, I'm sure, 'tis all Deceit,
Comfort thy self, that we again shall meet
Above the Clouds, where endless Joys abound,
And nothing but eternal Love goes round.
11
Our next Salute will be in Paradise:
Indulge your dearest Babes, forgive your Foes,
Strengthen your Vertues and your Mind compose:
Let Pray'r and Praise your pious Soul imploy,
And Heav'n will change your Mourning into Joy.
Once more, thou Glory of thy Sex farewel.
What Tongue the Torments of my Breast can tell!
In Death I only now can easy be.
God be the Guardian of thy Babes and thee.
Lady.
O! ease me, Heaven, in this sad distress,
What Pow'r but thine can make my Sorrows less?
Alas, for Ever, O! that dreadful Sound
Does ev'ry Vein with Bolts of Thunder wound,
Where is my Lord, my Husband, and my Friend?
On whom for Comfort must I now depend?
How can you go? Return to my Relief,
Leave me not drowning in a Sea of Grief.
Alas! he's fled for ever from my sight,
And my Hopes vanish into Horror's Night.
Come, King of Terrors, with your ghastly Train,
Strike home, and ease a wretched Woman's Pain;
Release my strugling Breath without delay,
By Life imprison'd in this worthless Clay,
That to the solemn Stage my Soul may fly,
And, with my Dear, surmount the distant Sky:
I cannot part for ever; O! I faint, I die.
| Nuptial Dialogues and Debates | |