<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2008-05-06</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080413.pdcc.</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B06445">
<STC T="W">V464B</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99884998</BIBNO>
<VID>182807</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 15 -->
<HEAD>A VINDICATION OF A Marriage Life: In An&s;wer to the Broad&s;ide again&s;t MARRIAGE.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>THou dull in&s;ipid Wretch, who could'&s;t not choo&s;e,</L>
<L>An apter Theme for thy Prophaner Mu&s;e:</L>
<L>Thy limping <HI>Pega&s;us</HI> though &s;hod with Rime</L>
<L>Flounders and halts ev'n in the &s;econd Line.</L>
<L>As if like <HI>Balaam</HI>'s A&s;s, he dur&s;t not go</L>
<L>His u&s;ual Pace again&s;t <HI>A Godly Foe.</HI></L>
<L>Thou Mercinarie&s;t Rhymer of the Town,</L>
<L>Thou Pimp to all Debauches for a Crown,</L>
<L>Who for a Strumpet's Fee do&s;t thus di&s;pence.</L>
<L>With breach of Laws of God and Con&s;cience.</L>
<L>And rather then thy Luxury controul</L>
<L>Wilt fell the noble Charter of thy Soul.</L>
<L>Nay had the other poor half Crown bin giv'n,</L>
<L>I dare to &s;wear Th'ad&s;t &s;old thy claim to Heav'n!</L>
<L>From the dull Poem we collect no more</L>
<L>But only that thou art, <HI>A Son of a Whore</HI></L>
<L>The Harlots Champion and her part do&s;t take</L>
<L>Becau&s;e thou lov'&s;t her for thy Mothers &s;ake.</L>
<L>And who can think him le&s;s who thus derides</L>
<L>The holy Priviledges of happy Brides.</L>
<L>Who cau&s;e him&s;elf's a Ba&s;tard won't allow</L>
<L>The ble&s;t effects of a conjugal Vow.</L>
<L>So Thieves and Rogues who boa&s;t their own e&s;teem</L>
<L>Would have &s;he hone&s;t, though as bad as them.</L>
<L>And with loud Oaths applaud that very crime,</L>
<L>For which perhaps they're hang'd another time,</L>
<L>Which ju&s;t de&s;erved Fate &s;ince 'tis his due;</L>
<L>I wi&s;h may reach our Poeta&s;ter too:</L>
<L>Who by a long accu&s;tom'd trick of thieving</L>
<L>Is the known Robber both of th' Dead and Living,</L>
<L>When hir'd Ver&s;e hath worn his fancy bare,</L>
<L>His Brain as Empty as his Pockets are.</L>
<L>Made de&s;perate through want, like &s;ome mad Lad,</L>
<L>That's driven by nece&s;&s;ity to Padd:</L>
<L>He rifles all the Poets in the Town</L>
<L>And what he rudely &s;eizes, makes his own.</L>
<L>No Play or Character, e're yet was Writ,</L>
<L>But &s;uffers by this <HI>High-way man of Wit,</HI></L>
<L>Who whe re&s;o e're he meets it bids it &s;tand</L>
<L>And quietly re&s;ign at his Command.</L>
<L>No wonder then if &s;uch as he degrade</L>
<L>The &s;potle&s;s plea&s;ures of a Marriage Bed;</L>
<L>Who&s;e In famous Progenitors ne're knew</L>
<L>What honours to that happy '&s;tate is due;</L>
<L>But &s;till ran on in an Ince&s;tious Line,</L>
<L>And knew their Parentage no more than Swine,</L>
<L>Thus I dare &s;wear, <HI>Incorrigible Sot,</HI></L>
<L>Thou was't not got by any holy Plot;</L>
<L>But as a hated Judgement did&s;t proceed</L>
<L>To puni&s;h tho&s;e who did &s;o ill a Deed.</L>
<L>By thy own Parents Recon'd a mi&s;hap</L>
<L>VVho&s;e Birth they dreaded wor&s;er than A Clap.</L>
<L>Thy Mother cur&s;t thee in her very womb.</L>
<L>And wi&s;h'd her belly might have been thy Tomb:</L>
<L>So pa&s;&s;ionately mad &s;he was to &s;ee,</L>
<L>That thou &s;houl'&s;t &s;poil her 6 Months Letchery:</L>
<L>What &s;hall <HI>I</HI> &s;ay thou thing of low E&s;tate!</L>
<L>The longe&s;t Cur<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="under-inked" EXTENT="2 letters">s too &s;hort to reach thy Fate,</L>
<L>To make compari&s;on 'twixt Hell and thee,</L>
<L>Were but to complement thy mi&s;ery,</L>
<L>And by &s;o mild a &s;imily to pre&s;s,</L>
<L>Too mode&s;t thoughts on thy unhappine&s;s.</L>
<L>Enjoy thy &s;elf, thy Royets and thy Wenches,</L>
<L>Thy Pocky Pills, thy Dyet, Drink and Drenches;</L>
<L>Commend thy Plai&s;ters, Scringes, and Fluxes,</L>
<L>Apd &s;wear there's no &s;uch plea&s;ure as the Fox is;</L>
<L>Thy &s;nuffling Eloquence &s;hall ne're di&s;&s;wade</L>
<L>Me from the Plea&s;ures of my Nuptial Bed.</L>
<L>Marriage tho Noble Center of the Mind,</L>
<L>Wherein an Heaven we only quiet find:</L>
<L>The even Calme of fifty plea&s;ant Years,</L>
<L>Wherein no &s;torms but tho&s;e of love appears,</L>
<L>And repetitions of our Cha&s;t delights,</L>
<L>Which we like Gods enjoy without affrights,</L>
<L>We run no hazards, but go to't with ea&s;e,</L>
<L>Squenching our Souls, and leaving when we plea&s;e.;</L>
<L>Cloy'd with the plea&s;ures of the active Night,</L>
<L>Our minds next day repeat the ble&s;t delight;</L>
<L>Flu&s;h'd with &s;weet ki&s;&s;es, our de&s;ires move</L>
<L>So high we drown our Duty in our Love.</L>
<L>Marriage, the holy order which confines,</L>
<L>Our &s;tragliag faculties to good de&s;ignes,</L>
<L>That wi&s;e retreat which bids us take a View,</L>
<L>Both of our &s;elves, and of our fortunes too,</L>
<L>Which bu&s;ie Youth could ne're abide to do</L>
<L>A Wife! that &s;weet divider of our cares!</L>
<L>Doubles our joy and half our &s;orrow &s;hares:</L>
<L>If angry De&s;tiny our Fortune &s;hakes,</L>
<L>She &s;miles, and heals tho&s;e wounds which Fortune make:</L>
<L>Sugar'd within humble Language, &s;he</L>
<L>Calmly diverts our Growing mi&s;ery.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>In &s;hort a Vertuous Wife's a good e&s;tate,</L>
<L>And he who has her is &s;ecur'd by Fate,</L>
<L>To Live in Credit, and be Fortunate.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>Printed for <HI>J. L. T. A&s;hfield. 1675</HI></P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
