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(From Merry Drollery, 1691)
HE that intends to take a Wife, | |
| I’ll tell him what a kind of life | |
| He must be sure to lead; | |
| If she’s a young and tender heart, | |
| Not documented in Love’s Art, | 5 |
| Much teaching she will need. | |
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| But where there is no path, one may | |
| Be tired before he finds the way, | |
| Nay, when he’s at his treasure, | |
| The gap perhaps will prove so straight, | 10 |
| That he for entrance long may wait, | |
| And make a toil of’s pleasure. | |
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| Or if one old, and past her doing, | |
| He will the Chamber-maid be wooing, | |
| To buy her ware the cheaper, | 15 |
| But if her choose one most formose, | |
| Ripe for’t, she’ll prove libidinous, | |
| Argus himself shan’t keep her. | |
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| For when those things are neatly drest. | |
| They’ll entertain each wanton guest, | 20 |
| Nor for their honour care, | |
| If any give their pride a fall, | |
| Th’ have learned a trick to bear withal, | |
| So you their charges bear. | |
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| So if you chance to play your game | 25 |
| With a dull, fat, gross, heavy Dame, | |
| Your riches to encrease, | |
| Alas! she will but jeer you for’t; | |
| Bid you to find out better sport, | |
| Lie with a pot of grease. | 30 |
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| If meager —— be thy delight, | |
| She’ll conquer in venerial fight, | |
| And waste thee to the bones: | |
| Such kind of girls, like to your Mill, | |
| The more you give, the more crave they will, | 35 |
| Or else they’ll grind the stones. | |
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| If black, ’tis odds she’s dev’lish proud, | |
| If short, Xantippe like, too loud, | |
| If long, she’ll lazy be, | |
| Foolish (the Proverb saith) if fair, | 40 |
| If wise and comely, danger’s there, | |
| Lest she do cuckold thee. | |
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| If she bring store of money, such | |
| Are like to domineer too much, | |
| Prove Mistris, no good wife, | 45 |
| And when they cannot keep you under, | |
| They’ll fill the house with scolding thunder | |
| What worse than such a life; | |
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| But if her Dowry only be | |
| Beauty, farewell felicity, | 50 |
| Thy fortunes cast away. | |
| Thou must be sure to satisfy her | |
| In belly, and in back-desire, | |
| To labour night and day. | |
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| And rather than her pride give o’er, | 55 |
| She’ll turn perhaps an honoured whore, | |
| And thou’lt Acteon’d be, | |
| Whilst like Acteon thou mayst weep, | |
| To think thou forced art to keep | |
| Such as devour thee. | 60 |
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| If being noble thou dost wed | |
| A servile Creature, basely bred, | |
| Thy Family it defaces; | |
| If being mean, one nobly born, | |
| She’ll swear t’ exalt a Courtlike horn, | 65 |
| Thy low descent it graces. | |
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| If one tongue be too much for any, | |
| Then he who takes a wife with many, | |
| Knows not what may betide him; | |
| She whom he did for learning honour, | 70 |
| To scold by book will take upon her, | |
| Rhetorically chide him. | |
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| If both her Parents living are, | |
| To please them you must take great care, | |
| Or spoil your future fortune, | 75 |
| But if departed they are this life, | |
| You must be parent to your wife, | |
| And father all, be certain. | |
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| If bravely drest, fair faced and witty, | |
| She’ll oft be gadding to the City, | 80 |
| Nor may you say her nay, | |
| She’ll tell you (if you her deny) | |
| Since women have Terms, she knows not why, | |
| But they still keep them may. | |
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| If you make choice of Country ware, | 85 |
| Of being Cuckold there’s less fear, | |
| But stupid honesty | |
| May teach her how to sleep all night; | |
| And take a great deal more delight | |
| To milk the Cows than thee. | 90 |
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| Concoction makes their blood agree | |
| Too near, where’s consanguinity; | |
| Then let no kin be chosen: | |
| He loseth one part of his treasure, | |
| Who thus confineth all his pleasure | 95 |
| To th’ arms of his first Cousin. | |
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| He’ll never have her at command, | |
| Who takes a wife at second hand; | |
| Then choose no widowed mother: | |
| The first cut, of that bit you love, | 100 |
| If others had, why mayn’t you prove | |
| But taster to another? | |
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| Besides, if she bring children many, | |
| ’Tis like by thee she’ll not have any, | |
| But prove a barren Doe; | 105 |
| Or if by them, she ne’er had one, | |
| By thee ’tis likely she’ll have none, | |
| Whilst thou for weak back go. | |
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| For there where other Gard’ners have been sowing | |
| Their seed, but ne’er could find it growing, | 110 |
| You must expect so too; | |
| And where the Terra Incognita | |
| S’ o’erplow’d, you must it fallow lay, | |
| And still for weak back go. | |
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| Then trust not to a maiden face, | 115 |
| Nor confidence in widow’s place, | |
| Those weaker vessels may | |
| Spring-leak, or split against a rock, | |
| And when your Fame’s wrapt in a smock, | |
| ’Tis easily cast away. | 120 |
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| Yet be she fair, foul, short, or tall, | |
| You for a time may love them all, | |
| Call them your soul, your life, | |
| And one by one them undermine, | |
| As Courtizan, or Concubine, | 125 |
| But never as married wife. | |
| He who considers this, may end the strife, | |
| Confess no trouble like unto a Wife. | |
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