pleasing Creatures, and to hear all their sweet and amiable
discourses. But now you shall be honoured with treating the Matron
like Midwife, and those Men and Women that are your kindest friends
and nearest relations; Yea and the God-Fathers and God-Mothers also
who will all of them accompany you with courteous discourses and
pleasant countenances: They will begin a lusty Bowl or thumping glass,
_super naculum_ drink it out, upon the health & prosperity of you,
your Bedfellow and young Son; and very heartily wish that you may
increase and multiply, at least every year with one new Babe; because
that they then might the better come to the Child-bed Feast.
Here you'l see now how smartly they'l both lick your dishes, and toss
your Cups and Glasses off. Begin you only some good healths, as; pray
God bless his Majesty and all the Royal Family: the Prosperity of our
Native Country; all the Well wishers of the Cities welfare, &c. And
when you have done, they'l begin; and about it goes to invest you with
the honour and name, in a full bowl to the Father of the Family; Well
is not that a noble title; such a Pleasure alone is worth a thousand
pounds at lest.
And whilest the Men are busie this way; the good woman with the other
Women are contriving on the other side how the Child ought to be put
in Cloaths upon the best and modishest manner: For she is resolved to
morrow morning to be Church'd, & in the afternoon she'l go to market.
She accomplishes the first well enough, but is at a damnable doubt in
the second part of her resolution; for by the way, in the Church, and
in the streets, she hath continually observed severall children, and
the most part of them dressed up in severall sorts of fashions: Some
of them she hath a great fancy for, but then she doubts whether that
be the newest mode or not. One seems too plain and common, which makes
her imagine in her thoughts; that's too Clownish. But others stand
very neat and handsom. 'Tis true, the Stuf and the Lining is costly
and very dear; but then again it is very comly and handsom. And then
again she thinks with her self, as long as I am at Market, I'd as good
go through stirch with it; and make but one paying for all; it is for
our first, and but for a little child, not for a great person;
therefore it is better to take that which is curious and neat, the
price for making is all one; besides it will be a great Pleasure for
my husband when he sees how delicately the child is drest up, and his
mony so extraordinarily well husbanded.
Now, my dearest, pray be you merry: if the stuf hath cost somthing
much, you have need but of little; and it is for your first. When it
grows bigger, or that you get more, you must part with much more mony.
Don't grudge at this for once, because then you would spoil all your
mirth and Pleasure with it. Rejoice that you have a Wife, who is not
only good to fetch children out of the Parsley Bed; but is also very
carefull to see them well nourished, and neat and cleanly cloath'd.
You your self have the praise and commendation of it. Let her alone a
while, for women must have their wills; say but little to her, for her
brains are too much busied already; and it may be that in three hours
time, you would hardly get three words of answer from her; and suppose
you should relate somthing or other to her, this shall be your answer
from her at last, that she did not well understand you, because all
her thoughts, nay her very sences do as it were glide to & again, one
among another continually, to order the dressing up of her child.
I am very well assured, O new invested Husband, that your wits at
present run a Wool-gathering, because that both Merchandize and Trade
are neither of them so quick as you would fain see them; and by reason
of this tedious and destructive War, monies is horrible scarce,
nothing near so plentifull as you could wish it to be: But comfort
your self herewith, that it hath hapned oft-times to others, & will
yet also happen oftner to you. Yet this is one of the least things;
but stay a little, to morrow or next day the Nurse goes away. This
seems to be a merriment indeed; for then you'l have an Eater, a
Stroy-good, a Stuf-gut, a Spoil-all, and Prittle-pratler, less than
you had before.
You are yet so happy that you have a Wet-Nurse, that carefully looks
after the Child; by which means both you and your Wife are freed from
tossing and tumbling with it in the night: whilest others, on the
contrary, that have no Wet-Nurses in their houses; begin first to
tast, when the Dry-Nurse goes away, what a Pleasure it is that the
Child must be set by the Bedside, and the charge thereof left unto
both Father & Mother, when it oftentimes happens that the good woman
is yet so weak, she can neither lay the Child in, nor take it out of
the Cradle; insomuch that the Father here must put a helping hand
to't, because he is of a stronger constitution, and hath the greatest
share in it.
By my faith such as those are they who have the first and true tast of
the Kernel of the Tenth Pleasure; because the husband ought as then,
out of a tender affection for his wife to rock continually, that she
might take her rest; otherwise she would not get any suck in her
breasts for the Child: And happy they are somtimes, if they come off
with but rocking the most part of the night; for many times it
happens, that the Child is so restless and unquiet, that Father,
Mother, & Maid; nay and all whatsoever is in the house must out of
their beds to quiet it; and though they use a thousand tricks and
stratagems, yet all's to no purpose.
And yet this is but a small matter for them neither; for before a few
months are past, the child begins to get teeth; and bawls and cries so
night & day, that they can tell the clock all the night long; wishing
a thousand thousand times over that they might see day-break; and so
by the comfortable assistance of day-light receive a little solace for
all their toiling and tumbling too and again.
Yet I would advise such as these, that they must in no manner be
discomforted at this; if they intend to demonstrate that they have
learnt somthing in the School of Marriage, to exercise their
patiences: But, on the contrary, to shew themselves contented with all
things; being assured, that hereafter when all this trouble is past,
they shall receive the happiness, that the child will return them
thanks with its pretty smiles; and in time also will salute them with
a slabbering cocurring. And I beleeve now that they clearly find that
all things do not go so even in this World, as they well imagined: And
that the fairest Sunshine of Marriage, may be somtimes darkned with a
Cloudy Storm.
You married people, that have the help of a Wet-Nurse, receive a much
greater advantage in participating of the Pleasures of Marriage,
neither need you to be troubled with tossing & dandling of the child
in the night.
O, young House-Father, this is a most incomparable Pleasure for you!
For now you may most certainly see the approach of a Daughter to your
Son; and by that means reap the possession again of all those former
Pleasures; & by every one be saluted with the Title that you are an
excellent good Artist.
If it be so, be carefull that you do not gad up and down with your
wife too much on horseback, or in Coaches; for fear it might make her
miscarry. But you have learnt all these things well enough at the
first, and without doubt have kept them well in remembrance.
Do but behold, in the mean time, what an unexpressible Pleasure your
dearly Beloved hath in the tricking up of her sweet Baby in the most
neatest dresses. What a World of pains she takes & spends her spirits,
to make the Tailor understand, according to what fashion she will have
it made; & to hasten him that all things may be ready and totally
finisht against Sunday next.
O new Father, now open your eys! Behold what a pretty Son you have!
How happy you are in so loving and understanding a Wife that knows how
to trick it so curiously up in this manner! She was never better
pleased! Undoubtedly the Summer nights are too long, and the daies too
short for her to gad up and down traversing the streets of the City,
that she may fullfill her desire of shewing it to every body: never
was any thing more neatly drest. But the Nurse and the Maid with the
Child in the mean while at Jericho; for their very backs and sides
seem to be absolutely broken with carrying it up & down from day to
day. And most especially when the Child is wean'd, and the Wet-Nurse
turn'd away, the Maid cannot let it penetrate into her brain; that she
now not only the whole week must rock, sing, dandle, dress, and walk
abroad with it; but that she is upon Sundaies also bound to the Child,
like a Dog to a halter; and never can stir out, as she formerly did,
to walk abroad with _Giles the Baker_, or _John True the Tailor_; nor
so much as go once to give a visit to her Country-folks or kindred;
which occasions no small difference between the Maid and the Mistriss.
But good House Father, never trouble your self at it, for this belongs
also to the Pleasures of Marriage; nor do not seem discontented
because your Dearest walks abroad thus every day; but rather think
with your self, she takes her spinning Wheel and reel along with her.
And if in her absence, you have not that due attendance, nor find that
in the house and Kitchin things are not so well taken care for, why
then, you must imagine to be satisfied with th'assistance of the
Semstress, or some such sort of person, as well as you were when you
enjoied the Eighth Pleasure: You must also observe, that if the Child
should sit much, it might get crooked legs, and then the sweet Babe
were ruined for ever. It is also too weak yet to be any waies roughly
handled; but it begins from day to day to grow stronger and stronger:
Also with your Dearest carrying it abroad continually to visit all
your friends and acquaintance, it learns by degrees to eat all things,
and drinks not only Beer, but some Wine too. And I assure you it is no
small Pleasure for the Father and Mother to see that this little young
Gosling can so perfectly distinguish the tast of the Wine, from the
tast of the Beer: tho when it is come to some elder years, perhaps
they would give a hundred pound, if they could but wean it from it.
But that's too far to be lookt into. And care too soon taken makes
people quickly gray-headed.
Before you reach this length, yea perhaps before some few weeks are at
an end; you will see this sweet Babe afflicted with either the Measels
or small Pox; and then you'l wish for a good sum of mony that he might
not be disfigured with them, in having many pock-holes. And it is no
wonder, for who knows whether he may be past small-pocking and
measeling when he is five & twenty years of age? But on the contrary
there may then perchance appear so many glimps of marriage Pleasures
from him, that such small things will not be once lookt at.
For if your Wife be now upon a new reckoning, and you come then, as I
have told you before, to get a Daughter; you will in time see what a
pretty sweet Gentlewoman she'l grow to be; how modestly & orderly she
goes to learn to write and read; but most especially to prick samples;
which perhaps she'l be wholly perfect in, before she hath half learnt
to sow: nay its probable that she'l be an Artist at the making of
Bone-lace, though she was never taught it.
Otherwise both you & her Mother will reap an extraordinary Pleasure in
seeing your Daughter grow up in all manner of comly and civil
deportments; and that she begins to study in the book of _French
manners and behaviours_; and knows also how to dress up her self so
finically with all manner of trinkum trankums, that all the
neighbouring young Gentlewomen, and your rich Neeces esteem themselves
very much honoured with the injoiment of her company; where they,
following the examples of their Predecessors, do, by degrees, instruct
one another in the newest fashions, finest Flanders Laces, the
difference and richness of Stuffs, the neatest cut Gorgets, and many
more such Jincombobs as these. Nay, and what's more, they begin also
to invite and treat each other like grave persons, according as the
opportunity will allow them, first with some Cherries and Plums; then
with some Filbuds and Small Nuts; or Wallnuts & Figs; and afterwards
with some Chesnuts and new Wine; or to a game at Cards with a dish of
Tee, or else to eat some Pancakes and Fritters or a Tansie; nay, if
the Coast be clear to their minds to a good joint of meat & a Sallad.
Till at last it comes so far, that through these delicious
conversations, they happen to get a Sweetheart, and in good time a
bedfellow to keep them from slumbring and sleeping. And it is very
pleasing to see that they do so observe the making good of the old
Proverb,
_As old Birds did, the young ones sing,
Which is a very pleasant thing._
Happy are you, O you new Housholders, who have already possessed your
selves of so many Pleasures in your marriage; and are now come just to
the very entrance to repossess your selves of them over again; and
perchance they'l never depart from you as long as you see the one day
follow the other. Be not backward or negligent in relating your
happiness to others; but if there be any distast or disaster that can
happen in the married estate, lock it up in the very Closet of your
heart, and abhor everlastingly the thoughts of relating it; then you
will have many that will pursue your footsteps, and be Listed into
your Company, & then also will your estate and condition be famous
through the whole World.
CONCLUSION.
Thus long you have seen, Courteous Reader, how that those married
people, who are but indifferently gifted with temporal means,
indeavour to puff up each other with vain and airy hopes and
imaginations, perswading themselves that all the troubles, vexations,
and bondages of the married estate; are nothing else but Mirths,
Delights and Pleasures; perhaps to no other end but to mitigate their
own miserable condition, or else to draw others into the same unhappy
snare; as indeed oftentimes hapneth. But it is most sad and
lamentable, that the meaner sort of people, when they have thrown
themselves into it, make their condition a thousand times worse then
it was before: For they, who at first could but very soberly and
sparingly help themselves, do find when they are married, that they
must go through not only ten, but at least a thousand cares and
vexations. And all what hath hitherto been said of the ten Pleasures,
is only spoken of the good and most agreeable matches; and not of any
of those, which many times are so different and contrary of humour,
as the light is from darkness; where there is a continual Hell of
dissention, cursing, mumbling and maundring; nay biting & scratching
into the bargain, which for the most part is occasioned by the
quarrelsom, crabbed, lavish, proud, opinionated, domineering, and
unbridled nature of the female sex. Besides there are a great number
(which I will be silent of) who do all they can to please others, and
Cuckold their own husbands. And others there are that disguise
themselves so excessively with strong Waters, that a whole day long
they can hardly close their Floud-gates. So that you need not wonder
much, if you see the greatest part of women (tho they trick themselves
never so finely up) can hardly get husbands; and their Parents are
fain at last to give a good sum of mony with them, that they may
disburthen themselves of them. Insomuch that it is easie to be seen
that they are in effect of less value then old Iron, Boots and Shoes,
&c. for we find both Merchants and mony ready alwaies to buy those
commodities.
Therefore O you that are yet so happy as to have kept your selves out
of this dreadfull estate of marriage, have a horror for it. Shun a
woman much more than a Fish doth the hook. Remember that Solomon
amongst all women kind could not find one good. Observe by what hath
befallen those that went before you, what is approaching to your self,
if you follow their footsteps. And be most certainly assured that the
acutest pens are not able to expound the light & feasiblest troubles
and disasters of marriage, set then aside the most difficile and
ponderous. Do but read with a special observation the insuing Letter
of a Friends advice touching marriage; imprint it as with a Seal upon
your heart; and lay fast hold upon that golden expression of the
glorious Apostle, _It is good for man not to touch a woman._
THE END OF THE TEN PLEASURES OF MARRIAGE.
* * * * *
A LETTER
From one Friend to another,
_Desiring to know whether it be advisable to marry._
_SIR,_
I must acknowledge that the Letter which you have writ me hath given
me some incumbrance, and made me more then three times to ruminate
upon the question you propounded to me concerning Marriage; for it is
a matter of great importance, that ought to be well pondered and
considered of, before one should adventure to solemnize & celebrate
it. Several of my familiar friends have troubled me touching the very
same subject, and I gave them every one my advice according as they
were affected; but me-thinks I ought not to deal so loose and
unboundedly with you, by reason I dare speak unto you with more
freedom and truth. First, there are two things which bind me strictly
to you, Nature and the Affection; and moreover the great knowledge I
have of this so necessary an evil. I will tell you my opinion, then
you may use your own discretion, whether you will approve of my
meaning for advice or not. For my part, I beleeve that of all the
disasters we are subject to in our life time, that of Marriage takes
preference from all the rest: But for as much as it is necessary for
the multiplying the World, it is fit it should be used by such as are
not sensible of it, and can hardly judge of the consequences thereof.
Neither do I esteem any man unhappy, let whatsoever disasters there
will happen to him, if he doth not fall beyond his sence so far as to
take a Wife. Those troubles that may befall us otherwise, are alwaies
of so small a strength! that he who hath but the least magnanimity may
easily overpower them. But the Tortures of Marriage are such a
burthen, that I never saw no man, let him be as couragious as he
would, which it hath not brought under the yoke of her Tyranny. Marry
then, you shall have a thousand vexations, a thousand torments, a
thousand dissatisfactions, a thousand plagues; and in a word, a
thousand sort of repentings, which will accompany you to your Grave.
You may take or chuse what sort of a Wife you will, she'l make you
every day repent your taking of her. What cares will come then to
awake and disturb you in the middle of your rest! and the fear of some
mischance or other will feed your very spirit with a continual
trouble. For a morning-alarm you shall have the children to awaken you
out of sleep. Their lives shall hasten your death. You shall never be
at quiet till you are in your Grave. You will be pining at many
insufferable troubles, and a thousand several cogitations will be
vexing your spirits at the chargeable maintenance of your Family.
Insomuch that your very Soul will be tormented with incessant crosses,
which alwaies accompany this evil, in the very happiest marriages. So
that a Man ought in reality to confess, that he who can pass away his
daies without a Wife is the most happiest. Verily a Wife is a heavy
burthen; but especially a married one; for a Maid that is
marriageable, will do all that ever she can to hide her infirmities,
till she be tied in Wedlock to either one or other miserable wretch.
She overpowers her very nature and affections; changes her behaviour,
& covers all her evil and wicked intentions. She dissembleth her
hypocrisie, and hides her cunning subtleties. She puts away all her
bad actions, and masks all her deeds. She mollifies both her speech
and face; and to say all in one word, she puts on the face of an
Angel, till she hath found one or other whom she thinks fit to deceive
with her base tricks and actions. But having caught him under the
Slavery of this false apparition; she then turns the t'other side of
the Meddal; and draws back the curtain of her Vizards, to shew the
naked truth, which she so long had palliated, and her modesty only
forbad her to reveal: By degrees then vomiting up the venom that she
so long had harboured under her sweet hypocrisie. And then is
repenting, or the greatest understanding of no worth to you: Perhaps
you may tell me, that you have a Mistriss, who is fair, rich, young,
wise, airy, and hath the very majestical countenance of a Queen upon
her forehead; and that these are all reasons which oblige you to love
her. But I pray, consider with your self, that a fair Woman is
oftentimes tempted; a young, perillous; a rich, proud and haughty; a
wise, hypocritical; an airy, full of folly; and if she be eloquent,
she is subject to speak evilly: if she be jocund and light hearted,
she'l leave you to go to her companions, and thinks that the care of
her mind, is with you in your solitariness; and by reason she can
flatter you so well, it never grieves you. If she be open-hearted, her
freedom of spirit will appear hypocritical to you: her airiness you
will judge to be tricks that will be very troublesom to you. If she
love playing, she'l ruine you. If she be liquorish and sweet-tooth'd,
she leads your children the ready road to an Hospital. If she be a bad
Housekeeper, she lets all things run to destruction, that hath cost
you so much care and trouble to get together. If she be a finical one,
that will go rich in her apparel, she'l fill the Shopkeepers Counters
with your mony. And in this manner her lavishness, shall destroy all
your estate. To be short, let her be as she will, she shall never
bring you much profit. In good troth, I esteem very little those sort
of things, which you imagine to have a great delight in. 'Tis true, if
you take a Wife, which is ugly, poor, innocent, without either air or
spirit; that's a continual burthen to you all your life time. The old
are commonly despised; the ugly abhor'd; the poor slighted; and the
innocent laught at. They are called beasts that have no ingenuity: and
women without airiness, have generally but small sence of love. In
these last some body might say to you, that one ought to take of them
that are indifferently or reasonably well qualified. But I will surge
a little higher, and tell you plainly, that that will be just like one
who fearing to drown himself at the brinks of a River, goeth into the
middle, to be the higher above water. You see now, why I cannot advise
you to marry. Yet I would not have you to beleeve, tho I so much
discommend it, that it is no waies usefully profitable. I esteem it to
be a holy institution ordained by God Almighty. That which makes it
bad is the woman, in whom there is no good. If you will marry, you
must then conclude never to be any thing for your self again; but to
subject your self to the toilsom will and desires of a Wife, most
difficult to be born with; to pass by all her deficiences; to assist
her infirmities; to satisfie her insatiable desires; to approve of all
her pleasures, & whatsoever she also will you must condescend to. Now
you have heard and understood all my reasons and arguments, you may
then tell me, that you have a fine estate, and that you would
willingly see an heir of your own that might possess it; and that it
would be one of your greatest delights, to see your own honour and
vertues survive in your children. But as to that I'l answer you, and
say, that your reward shall be greater in relieving the poor and
needy; then to leave rich remembrances to Heirs; and procure you an
everlasting blessing, that you might otherwise leave for a prey to
your children; who it may be are so bastardized in their birth, that
they are both Spendthrifts and Vagabonds; for it happens oft that good
trees do not alwaies bring forth good fruit. If, when you have
seriously perused this my Letter, you are not affrighted at your
intention; marry: but if you take it indifferently; marry not. And
beleeve me, that a man who is free from the troubles & vexations of
marriage, is much happier and hath more content to himself in one day,
then another in the whole scope of his Wedlock. And what's more, a
single man may freely and resolutely undertake all things, to Travel,
go to battell, be solitary, & live according to his own delight;
without fearing that at his death he shall leave a Widow and
Fatherless children, who must be delivered over to the Fates, for
their friends will never look after them. Hitherto I have kept you up,
concerning your intention; and further I give you no other advice,
then what by your self you may take to your self. If you marry, you do
well: but not marrying, you do better. And if you will incline to me,
rather then to marry, you shall alwaies find me to be
SIR
_Your very humble servant_
A.B.
* * * * *
THE
CONFESSION
OF THE
NEW MARRIED COUPLE.
* * * * *