The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses from Men

Name: The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses from Men
Author: Various

Various

English literature -- 18th century; Erotic literature, English

Or where they 'scape the plagues of _Pox_ and _Pills_,
        The Sin is liable to fifty Ills,
        Of equal Danger, tho' a diff'rent Cure,
        As he that dreading Claps wou'd Sin secure;
        For soon the pliant Wretch he has beguil'd
        Hath to his Charge and wonder prove with Child:
        At which, 'tmay properly be said a Man,
        Leaps from the Fire to the Frying-pan,
        This for his Reputation sake must be reveal'd
        When Claps are only as a Jest reveal'd
        She's now Remov'd--Deliver'd--and the Nurse;
        Comes thick and threefold to Exhaust his Purse;
        A blessed Life that woful Mortal bears,
        With _Nurse_ and _Child_, and _Mother_ in his Ears.
        Arm'd with a Thousand things that must be had,
        Till they have drein'd him poor and made him mad:
        What better (had he been convin'd before,)
        He had Transgress'd with some Obedient Whore.


                _The Seventh Pleasure of a Town Life._

        Another that he may his Joys secure,
        Turns _Limbetham_ and keep some Gaudy whore,
        Thinks her his own--when Satan knows her his mind,
        Is like her Body not to be confin'd,
        As constant as the Moon, she plays her part,
        And like a Viper preys upon his Heart:
        Draws him so poor, till like her Slaves,
        Which she bestows on some smart Fop she loves,
        For this is with 'em a perpetual Rule,
        They never Love the Person that they fool,
        This he perceives not till it is too late,
        Till Ruined in his Person and Estate.
        And then good Night, when all his money's gone,
        Miss leaves him too, to ply about the Town.


                 _The Eighth Pleasure of a Town Life._

        But above all--if't be within thy Power,
        Oh Fate! to Curse me any mortal more,
        Let him be him that does so wretched prove,
        To be with some Intriging Jilt in Love:
        Nay, tho' in part to mollifie his pain,
        We'll say the Harlot chance to Love again?
        I mean such Love as Lewdness can impart,
        Bred in the Blood--but never in the Heart.
        With softning presents he would Cure her mind,
        To him, and only to him, to be Kind.
        But were the _Indies_ all within his Pow'r
        To give, he would but lavish all his Store,
        He might confine the Sea, as soon as her.
        What then (since Love no Rival will submit)
        Must he indure that with this plague do's meet:
        When every Thought is Death and Discontent
        To know, what he wants power to prevent,
        The case can only this conclusion have,
        He's twice more wretched than a Galley-slave.


                 _The Ninth Pleasure of a Town Life._

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses from Men

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