Chapter 4 of 18 · 3944 words · ~20 min read

Part 4

In the night she dreams on't, and by day she talks on't, and alwaies concludes this to be her certain rule. "The first year won't come again. If we don't take some pleasure now, when shall we do it! Oh, my Dear, a year hence we may have a child, then its impossible for me to go any where, but I shall be tied like a Dog to a chain: And truly, why should not we do it as well as they & they did; for they were out a month or two, and took their pleasures to the purpose? my Mother, or my Cousin will look to our house; come let us go also out of Town! For the first year will not come again."

Well, what shall the good man do? if he will have quietness with his wife, he must let her have her will, or else she will be daily tormenting of him. And to give her harsh language, he can't do that, for he loves her too well. His father also taught him this saying, for a marriage lesson, _Have a care of making the first difference._ If he speak unkindly to her, his Love might be angry, and then that would occasion the first difference, which he by no means willingly would be guilty of; for then these Pleasures would not have their full swing.

Well, away they go now out of Town: But, uds lid, what a weighty trunk they send the Porter with to the Carriers! For they take all their best apparel with them, that their friends in the Country, may see all their bravery. And besides all this, there must be a riding Gown, and some other new accoutrements made for the journy, or else it would have no grace.

Now then, away they go, every one wishing them all health and prosperity upon their journy, & so do I.

But see! they are hardly ridden ten mile out of Town, before the young woman begins to be so ill with the horses jolting, that she thinks the World turns topsie-turvy with her. Oh she's so ill, that she fears she shall vomit her very heart up. Then down lights her husband, to take her off, and hold her head, and is in such a peck of troubles, that he knows not which way to turn or wind himself. Wishing that he might give all that he's worth in the World to be at a good Inn. And she poor creature falling into a swoon, makes him look as if he had bepist himself, & though he sighs and laments excessively she hears him not; which occasions him such an extremity of grief that he's ready to tear the hair off of his head. But the quamishness of her stomack beginning to decline, she recovers; and rising, they walk for a little space softly forwards; the good man thinking with himself how he shall do to get his dearly beloved to an Inn, that she may there rest her distempered body. And then getting her up again, they ride very softly forwards, to get to the end of their journy.

Truly, I must confess, that amongst the rest of the Pleasures of marriage, this is but a very sorry one. But stay a little, yonder me thinks I see the Steeple, we shall be there presently; the little trouble and grief you have had, will make the salutations you receive, and the scituation of the place seem so much the pleasanter. And these dainty green Meadows will be a delicate refreshment. You'l find your stomack not only sharpned, but also curiously cleansed of all sorts of filthy and slimy humours. And you light not sooner from your horse then your appetite is ready to entertain what ever comes before you: The good Man in the mean while is contriving at whose house he shall first whet his knife, and where he thinks his poor wearied wife will receive the best entertainment and caresses, to drive out of her imaginations the troubles and wearisomness of her journy; which will the easier be dispensed with, when she walks out to see the rarities of the place, and to visit your Cousins and relations. And so much the more, because every one will be wishing the new married couple much joy, receiving them kindly, and doing them all manner of pleasures and civilities: which I assure you is no small matter of mirth.

But every thing must have an end. It is therefore now very meet to speak of removing to some other City. But let the husband say what he will of travelling by horseback, she is struck on that ear with an incurable deafness.

They must have a Coach to themselves, and the great Trunk must go along with them, or else the whole journy would have no grace. Neither would it be respect enough for them in the presence of so many good friends and acquaintance, unless the Coach come to take them up at the dore. And it must be done to. Here now one is returning thanks for th'entertainment, and the other for their kind visit, and withall wish the young couple that all content, pleasure, and delight may further attend them upon their journy, &c. Then it is Drive on Coachman, and away fly the poor jades through the streets, striking fire out of the liveless stones, as if Pluto just at the same time were upon the flight with his Proserpina through the City.

But, O new married couple, what price do you little think this mirth will stand you at? What man is there in the World, that hath ever an eye in his head, but must needs see, that if he tarry out long, this must be the ready way to Brokers-Hall. Yet nevertheless I confess you must do it, if you intend to have any peace or quietness with your new wife.

These are the first fruits and pleasures of marriage, therefore you must not so much as consider, nay hardly think, of being so long from home, though in the mean while all things there is going also the ready way to destruction; for it is the fashion, at such times, that maid, man, and all that are in your service, to act their own parts; and so merry they are that they possess their own freedom, and keep open Table, that the whole neighbourhood hears their laughter. Ask the neighbours when you come home, and you will quickly hear, that by them was no thought of care or sorrow; but that they have plaied, ranted and domineer'd so that the whole neighbourhood rung with it; and how they have played their parts either with some dried Baker, pricklouse Tailor, or smoaky Smith, they themselves know best.

Down goes the spit to the fire; the pudding pan prepared; and if there be either Wine, Beer or any thing else wanting; though the Cellar be lockt; yet, by one means or another, they find out such pretty devices to juggle the Wine out of the Cask, nay and Sugar to boot too; that their inventions surpass all the stratagems that are quoted by the Author of the English Rogue; of which I could insert a vast number, but fear that it would occasion an ill example to the unlearned in that study. Howsoever they that have kept house long, and had both men & maid-servants, have undoubtedly found both the truth and experience hereof sufficiently. And how many maids, in this manner, have been eased of that heavy burthen of their maidenheads, is well known to the whole World.

These are also some of the first fruits and delights of marriage; but if they were of the greatest sort, they might be esteemed and approved of to be curable, or a remedy found for prevention. Yet let them be of what state and condition they will, every one feels the damage and inconvenience thereof, ten times more then it is outwardly visible unto him, or can comprehend. For if you saw it you would by one or other means shun or prevent it. But now, let it be who it will, whether Counsellor, Doctor, Merchant, or Shopkeeper; the one neglects his Clients Suit, the other his Patients, the third his Negotiation & Trade, and the fourth his Customers; none of them all oft-times knowing from whence it arises that their first years gain is so inconsiderable. For above the continual running on of house-rent, the neglect and unnecessary expensive charge of servants; you consume your self also much mony in travelling and pleasure; besides the peril and uneasiness that you suffer to please and complaite your new married Mistris. O miserable pleasure!

But you will be sure to find the greatest calamity of this delight, as soon as you return home again; if you only observe the motions of your wife, for whose pleasure and felicity you have been so long from home. Alas she is so wearied and tired with tumbling and travelling up & down, that she complains as if her back were broke, and it is impossible for her to rise before it is about dinner time; nay and then neither hardly unless she hear that there is something prepared suitable to her appetite. If any thing either at noon or night is to be prepared and made ready, the husband must take care and give order for the doing of it; the good woman being yet so weary, that she cannot settle her self to it; yea it is too much for her to walk about her chamber, her very joints being as it were dislocated with the troublesomness of the journy.

In the mean while the servants they ly simpring, giggling, and laughing at one another, doing just what they list, and wishing that their Mistris might be alwaies in that temper, then they were sure to have the more freedom to themselves: the which, though done by stealth, they make as bad as may be: and yet hardly any man, tho he had the eyes of _Argolus_ can attrap them; for if by chance you should perceive any thing, they will find one excuse or another to delude you, and look as demure as a dog in a halter, whereby the good man is easily pacified and satisfied for that time.

And these things are more predominant, when there is a cunning slut of a Maid, that knows but how to serve and flatter her Mistris well, getting her by that means upon her side: in such cases you'l generally see two maids where one might serve, or else a Chair-woman; the one to do all the course work, the other to run of errands and lend a helping hand (if she hath a mind to it) that all things may the sooner be set in order; & she then with her Mistris may go a gadding.

And because Peggy & her Mistris, do in this manner, as it were, like a Jack in a box, jump into each others humour, the good woman may take her rest the better; for she hath caretakers enough about the house. And if the husband, coming from the Change or other important affair, seems to be any waies discontented, that all things lies stragling about the house, & are not set in order, presently crafty Peggy finds a fit expedient for it with complaining that her Mistris hath had such an insufferable pain in her head and in her belly, that it was beyond imagination; & also she could get no ease for her, unless she had prepared her some butter'd Ale, and a little mul'd Sack; and this is the reason why all things were not so ready as they ought to have been.

Herewith the good mans mouth is stopt. If he begins afterwards to speak with his wife concerning th'unnecessary Chair-women; his answer is, prithee Sweetheart, don't you trouble your self with those things, leave that to me, I'l manage that to the best advantage; men have no understanding about house-keeping; & it is most proper for a woman to have the governance of her Maids. And also Sweetheart, if there be now and then occasion for a semstress or a Chair-woman, they are things of so small importance, that they are not worth the speaking of.

Now, if he will have peace and quietness at home, this reply must give him full satisfaction; and tho he be never so patient, viewing all things at a distance; yet the maids behind his back, that their Mistris may more then overhear it, dare call him, a Tom _Peep in the pot_, or _Goodman busiebody_. And before dinner is fully done, he must hear _Peg_ asking her Mistris; Mistris, wont you please forsooth, to go by and by and give Mistris _Moody_ a visit, or discourse a little with Madam Elenor? As long as you have nothing to do, what need you ty your self to any thing? Pray tell her that story that the North Country Gentleman related, which you laught at yesterday so heartily. Madam _Elenor_ will admire at it. And I'm sure she hath something that she will relate unto you. Herewith the good Mistris begins to get a drift, and away she goes with _Peg_ out of dores. Let it go then as it will with the house keeping.

This is also no small pleasure, when the Mistris and the Maid alwaies agree so lovingly together! then the husband need not go any more out of Town to please his wives fancy; for she can now find pleasure enough by her old acquaintance sweet Mistris _Moody_, and courteous Madam _Elenor_.

Do but see now, O Lovers, what multiplicity of roses, and thistles there are in the very Porch of the Wilderness of Marriage; you may think then what the middle and end must be.

* * * * *

[Illustration: Folio 54. _Published by the Navarre Society, London._]

THE FOURTH PLEASURE.

_The Wife goes a pratling by her Neighbours; complaining of her barrenness, and takes Physick for it._

Verily it is a great pleasure for the new married couple, that they have been up and down taking their pleasure, and have been feasted by all their acquaintance.

Now they have travelled from place to place, and taken a full view of what friends and relations each other hath; and seen also the great difference there is in the ornaments, neatness, manners and deportments of each place, and also how pleasant the _Hills_, _Dales_ and _Meadows_ lie, with their silver streaming Brooks; but most

## particularly, how neatly and compleatly one may, for their mony, be

treated. Yet come finally to a consideration within themselves of the weakness and vanity of this pleasure; perceiving that all those who possess it, at last conclude it burthensom, and have a longing desire to be at home again in a frugal management of house-keeping at their own Tables.

Verily, this is that happy hour of pleasure that the new married man hath been long seeking for; to the end he might once be freed from all such idle expences, and be again carefully looking after his affairs and vocation. Now he begins to hope that all things will come into a handsom posture; also not doubting, but that his wife will, having had her full swing and hearts content of treats and all other sorts of pleasures, begin like a House-Wife, to order her self to take some care for the concerns of the Family, which indeed oft-times falls out so, to the great joy, profit, and tranquility of the good man.

But can it be possible that this sweet pleasure should be so disht up, without some bitter sauce of discontent? O kind Husband, if you will beleeve that, then you may well think the whole state and term of your marriage to be a Paradice upon earth; and that you have already got footing in the high-way to all fullness of pleasures and contentments: Yet tarry a few daies, and then experience will give you a better understanding of further pleasures.

For the new Wife is no sooner come to be at quiet; but she begins to complain, that she can hardly addict her self to this new way of life; that it appears very strange and odly to her to converse with a new Maid, by reason she must be telling her this thing, and commanding her the t'other; and have a regard of all what she does, which are things that she before never used to trouble her self with; and that it is such a trouble to her to be out of her Parents house, in a strange dwelling place: Nay, this oft-times surges so high, that the good man hath his hands full of work to comfort her, and to talk these foolish fancies out of her noddle; and verily, unless he can bridle her frivolous humour with some pleasant discourses, and dry up her tears with no small number of kisses; oh then he'l be sadly put to't. And if this all falls out well, before six weeks are at an end, there'l appear another dark cloud again, to eclipse this splendant Sunshine.

For behold, within a very small time the good woman begins to scrape acquaintance, and get some familiarity with her neighbours, which increaseth from day to day more and more; nay oftentimes it comes to that height, she's better to be found among her neighbours, then at home in her own family. Here she sees Mistris Wanton playing with her child that is a very pretty Babe. There she sees Mistres _Breedwell_ making ready her Child-bed linnens and getting of her Clouts together. Yonder Mistris _Maudlen_ complains that she doth not prove with child; & then Mistres _Young-at-it_ brags how nearly she could reckon from the very bed-side. Oh then she thinks I have been married this three months, and know nothing at all of these things; it is with me still as if I were yet a maid: What certainly should be the reason thereof?

This is the first occasion that begets a great disturbance in the brain-pan and imagination; and wo be to the good man, if he doth not understand his Py-work well! Then to the end she may hear the better how things goes; she inquires very earnestly amongst her acquaintance what caresses they receive from their husbands; and most shamlesly relates what hath passed between her and her husband, twixt the curtains, or under the Rose; which she doth to that purpose, that she may hear whether her husband understands his work well, and whether he doth it well, and oft enough; and also whether he be fully fit for the employ, &c. for the verification whereof the Councel of women bring so many compleat relations, that it is a shame to think, much more to speak of them.

Whosoever she speaks with every one pities her, and gives her their advice: And the best sort will at the least say to her, I would oftentimes treat my husband with such sort of spices as were good for my self, _viz._ Oisters, Egs, Cox-combs, sweet breads, Lam-stones, Caveer, &c. and counsell him every morning to go to the Coffe-house and drink some Chocolate; & above all things advise him to desist from Tabacco and drying things, or any other things that are too cooling for the kidneys. And then I would many times my self by dallying with him, and some other pretty Wanton postures, try to provoke him to it; whereby he should surely know that it was neither your coolness, nor want of desire that might be blamed in it; but rather alwaies confess, that you had sufficiently done your indeavour.

Who will doubt but that she puts this advice, in operation? O happy man, who art now every foot treated with some new sorts of kickshaws at your Table; and have free leave to frequent the Coffy-house, which other women grumble and mumble at. And besides all this, you find that your dearest embraceth you as if you were an Angel, and shews you a thousand other friendly entertainments that are beyond imagination to express: it is alwaies in the evening, my Dear come to bed: and in the morning, pray Love ly a little longer. These are most certainly very great pleasures.

But if the Woman marks that this helps not, and that all things remain in the old posture, then she begins to mump and maunder at her husband; vaunting much of her own fitness, and not a little suspecting her husbands; oftentimes calling him a Fumbler, a dry-boots, and a good man Do-little, &c.

This makes him look as if he had beshit him self. And though he never so much indeavours to vindicate himself; and also to perswade her from the reasons and examples given by several learned Doctors; Culpepper; the Queens Midwife; and some others of his friends and acquaintance that he demonstrates unto her; it is all but wind. She still complains, I must have a Child, or else I shall run distracted.

And this manner of frantickness hath so vehemently struck into her brains, that the very house seems to burn over her head: Insomuch that she's no sooner risen from her bed or from the Table, but immediately she goeth a gadding amongst the neighbours; and takes other peoples children in her arms, kissing and slabbring of them so unmeasurably, as if she would almost devour them with love; nay she useth more simple and childish actions with them, then ever own mothers have done. By which means the children have many times as great an affection for their neighbour, as they have for their own Father and Mother.

This gadding out of dores doth undoubtedly a little trouble her husband: But when he begins to consider, that his wife by this means knows how to handle, and make much of children; and then again, that she thus beforehand learns it for nothing; it must of necessity be no less then a great pleasure for him. And so much the more, whilest she is pratling with her neighbour, and playing with her child; he is freed from the curse of hearing her sighs and complaints to have a child. For she's no sooner within the dores, but she talks of her neighbours child, and wishes with the loss of all that shes worth in the World that she had such a one too; which continues alwaies so long, that finally she bursts out into the like former frenzy against her husband: see there I must have a child also, or else I shall run distracted.

But what remedy? which way he turns or winds himself, he finds no means or way how to pacifie his wife. And therefore thinks it best himself to take th'advice of Doctor, and most especially with that French Doctor, who is so renowned for his skill of making many men and women that before were barren and unfruitfull to conceive children: Insomuch that they do now every year precisely bear a young son, or a daughter, yea somtimes two at a time. It is thereby also very necessary that the good woman her self consult with some experienced Midwives, and old Doctresses; to the end, that those distempers which are the occasion of barrenness, might be the better removed and taken away.