The Husband all this while concludes her Chaste, And little thinks she spends his Wealth so fast, 'Till Pocky Pains begins to smart below, Then mildly asks her if she made him so? At which she swears, and bold'y starts this Whim, That she had catch'd the Foul Disease of him: Which strange Retort, makes him suspect the Crime, She had concealed from him so long a time.

The Sixth Comfort

He tells her of her Faults, and mildly says, Dear Wife 'tis got by going thus to Plays. To which she answers, like a Cunning Jilt, It is the very cause of this my Guilt, But take my Word, I ne'er did so before. Nor never while I live, do so no more. With feigned Tears, and with a Judas Kiss; She said (My Dear) I own I have done amiss. But if you'll Pardon me this very time, I'll for the future loath so vile a Crime.

The Seventh Comfort

The Man o're-joy'd to hear such Words as these, From her, he hardly ever yet could please. In loving Terms, embrac'd her in his Arms, And said, his chief delight was in her Charms. Besides he added, if she would be Chaste, He'd freely Pardon'd her for what was past. All seeming Friendship now's afresh renew'd. On promise she wou'd ne'er again be Leud. With Tears and Kisses, (Woman like) she Fawns. And asks his Pardon on her Marrow-bones.

The Eighth Comfort

The Cunning Jilt, she being thus forgiven, Next studdies how to make her Ballance even. That is to please her Husband and her Friend, And all this while a Vertuous Wife pretend. At last she makes a League with John her Man, And thus afresh her Wickedness began, By subtle Arts, more cautious than before, She pleas'd her Husband, yet was still a Whore.

The Ninth Comfort

Thus seeming Prudence, when 'tis ill apply'd, It makes the Breach more dangerous and wide. For tho' it may at first appear more bright, And something dazling to a weaker light. Yet being view'd with more discerning thought, What seem'd real good, is found to be stark nought. For this base Woman grows from bad to worse, And proves her Husband's Plague, as well as Curse; Consumes his Stock, on some sad Lustful Knave, And makes her Spouse a Cuckold and a Slave.

The Tenth Comfort

The Sport's still carry'd on, but under-hand, She seems the Chastest Wife in all the Land, Oh! how she blames her self for former Deeds, And says her Heart within with Sorrow bleeds. Which he believes, because she sheds some Tears, And frees his Mind from Sorrow grief and Cares. She Apes the Saint, by framing Modest Look, Tho' perfect Devil in a Private Nook. Deceives her Husband with her cunning Wiles, And Cheats his Scenses with her feigned Smiles.

The Eleventh Comfort

Extreamly fond the Cuckold hugs his Choice, Well pleas'd to think the Whore has left her Vice, Gives her fine Cloaths, and Money what she craves, Which she as freely spends on Rogues and Knaves. Her private Stallion now will not suffice, Her Lust encreases as her Favours rise, New Faces Charm the roving Brimstone Jilt, And with each Beau she acts new fancy'd Guilt. When time and place her wickedness denies, She feeds her thoughts with her lascivious eyes.

The Twelfth Comfort

Yet all this while the Husband thinks his Wife Is Penitent, and leads a Virtuous Life. Because she fawns and flatters Night and Day, He can't believe she'll ever go astray. No Cost he spares to satisfie her Pride, } But makes her equal with the loftiest Bride, } While Watch of Gold hangs dangling by her side. } He strains his Pocket to maintain her high, And freely let's his Gold and Silver fly. Nay, sells his Lands, her Honour to defend, And thus is ruin'd by his Bosom Friend.

The Thirteenth Comfort

She thus goes on and spends his Wealth so fast, That he begins to think of what is past. Takes notice of her Visits out of Town, And wonders where she's Coach'd so up and down, Enquires of John (who now seems Jealous too) And asks him what he thinks his Wife will do. The Servant's vext, but dares not yet disclose, Not half the Truth of what he really knows. Yet being willing something to impart, Declares he's very sorry at his Heart. To think how much she daily spends in Waste, And adds, he doubts, she is not over Chaste. But shak'd his Head, as if 'twas spoke in jest. And left his Master to find out the rest.

The Fourteenth Comfort

The Matter having wisely took the hint, Begins to fear there may be something in't. But still unwilling, to expose her shame, He is resolved to tell her of the same. Next Night he took occasion thus to say, My Dear, pray tell me, where you've been to Day. I hope (says she) you'll not be Jealous now, D'ye think I'll damn my self to break my Vow? I'd have you know I scorn the thing you fear, Of such foul Deeds my Conscience now is clear. But this I tell you for your further ease, Where I have been, I'll go when e'er I please. Do you think I'll be kept in like a Drone, While others reap the Pleasures of the Town. No Faith, I'll never yield to such hard Fate. To be confin'd; is what I always hate. The Honest Husband hearing what she said. He stood amaz'd, but yet no Answer made. He plainly saw his Ruin coming on, His own Disgrace, and all his Money gone. He now believes what he wou'd not before, } His Pious Wife is still a Brimstone Whore, } Who made him Cuckold, and confounded Poor. }

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The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses from Men

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The Fifth Comfort