Chapter 3

Adieu all care! the Wedding is at hand, who thinks now of any thing but superfluity of mirth? Away with all these whining, pining Carpers, who are constantly talking & prating that the married estate brings nothing but care and sorrow with it; here, to the contrary, they may see how all minds & intentions are knit together, to consume and pass away these daies with the most superabounding pleasures. Away with sorrow. 'Tis not invited to be among the Wedding guests. Noct there is nothing else to be thought on, but to help these Lovers that they may enjoy the kernel of the first pleasure of their marriage.

But really, there's poor Mally the maid, is almost dead with longing, and thinks her very heart in pieces, scarcely knowing when the first Wedding-night will be ended, that she might carry up some water to the young couple, and have a feeling of those liberal gifts that she shall receive from the Bridegroom and the Bride, for all her attendance, running and turmoiling. And her thoughts are, that no body has deserved it better, for by night and by day she waited upon them, and was very diligent and faithfull in conveyance of their Love-Letters; but all upon fair promises, having carried her self in the time of their wooing almost like a Bawd to the Bride; for which she never had in all the time but three gratuities from the Bridegroom,

_And now the Bride is in the bed, The former promises are dead._

Make your self merry amongst the rest of the Wedding guests, so far as is becoming you: who knows, but that some brave Gentlemans man, Coachman, or neighbors servant, may fall in love with you; for many times out of one Wedding comes another, and then you might come to be a woman of good fashion. Udsbud Mally! then you would know, as well as your Mistress, what delights are to be had in the first Wedding night. Then you would also know how to discourse of the first Pleasure of marriage, and with the Bride expect the second.

* * * * *

THE SECOND PLEASURE.

_The Woman goes to buy houshold-stuf. The unthankfulness of some of the Wedding-guests, and thankfulness of others._<

Well, young married people, how glad you must needs be, now the Wedding's over, and all that noise is at an end? You may now ly and sleep till the day be far spent! And not only rest your selves quietly; but, to your desires, in the Art of Love, shew one another the exercise and handling of Venus Weapons.

Now you may practise an hundred delicious things to please your appetites, & do as many Hocus Pocus tricks more. Now you may outdo _Aretin_, and all her light Companions, in all their several postures. Now you may rejoice in the sweet remembrance, how sumptuous that you were, in Apparel, meat and drink, and all other ornaments that my Lady _Bride_, and Madam _Spend-all_, first invented and brought in practice. Now you may tickle your fancies with the pleasures that were used there, by dansing, maskerading, Fire-works, playing upon Instruments, singing, leaping, and all other sort of gambals, that youth being back'd with Bacchus strength uses either for mirth or wantonness.

O how merry they were all of 'em! And how deliciously were all the dishes dress'd and garnisht! What a credit this will be for the Cook and Steward! Indeed there was nothing upon the Table but it was Noble, and the Wine was commended by every one. They have all eaten gallantly, & drunk deliciously. Well, this is now a pleasant remembrance.

And you, O young Woman, you are now both Wife and Mistris your self; you are now wrested out of the command of your grinning and snarling narrow-soul'd Tutors (those hellish Curmugions) now you may freely, without controul, do all what you have a mind to; and receive therewith the friendly imbracings, and kind salutes of your best beloved. Verily this must needs be a surpassing mirth.

And you, O new made husband, how tumble you now in wantonness! how willingly doth liberal Venus her self, open her fairest Orchard for you! Oh you have a pleasure, that those which never tried, can in the least comprehend.

Well, make good use of your time, and take the full scope of your desires, in the pleasant clasping and caressing of those tender limbs; for after some few daies, it may be hungry care will come and open the Curtains of your bed; and at a distance shew you what reckonings you are to expect from the Jeweller, Gold-smith, Silk-man, Linnen-Draper, Vinter, Cook and others.

But on the t'other side again, you shall have the pleasure to hear your young Wife every moment sweetly discoursing that she must go with her Sister and her Aunt to buy houshold-stuf, Down-beds, dainty Plush and quilted Coverlets, with costly Hangings must be bought: And then she will read to you, her new made Husband, such a stately Register, that both your joy of heart, and jingling purse shall have a fellouw-feeling of it.

For your Sweetest speaks of large Venetian Looking-glasses, Chiny-ware, Plush Chairs, Turkish Tapistry, Golden Leather, rich Pictures, a Service of Plate, a Sakerdan Press, an Ebbony Tabel, a curious Cabinet and child-bed Linnen cupboard, several Webs for Napkins and Tabel-cloaths, fine and course linnen, Flanders laces, and a thousand other things must be bought, too long to be here related: For other things also that concern the furnishing of the house, they increase every day fresh in the brains of these loving and prudent Wives.

And when the Wife walks out, she must either have the Maid, or at least the Semstress, along with her; then neighbour John, that good carefull labourer, must follow them softly with his wheel-barrow, that the things, which are bought, may be carefully and immediately brought home.

And at all this, good Man, you must make no wry faces, but be pleasant and merry; for they are needfull in house-keeping, you cannot be without them; and that mony must alwaies be certainly ready, get it where you will. Then, saies the Wife, all this, at least, there must needs be, if we will have any people of fashion come into our house.

You know your Beloved hath also some Egs to fry, and did bring you a good Portion, though it consist in immovable Goods, as in Houses, Orchards, and Lands that be oftentimes in another Shire. Thither you may go then, with your Hony, twice a year, for the refreshing of your spirits, and taking your pleasure to receive the House-rents, fruits of the Orchards, and revenues of the Lands. Here every one salutes you with the name of Landlord; and, according to their Country fashion, indeavour to receive you with all civilities and kind entertainment. If, with their Hay-cart, you have a mind to go and look upon the Land, and to be a participator of those sort of pleasures; or to eat some new Curds, Cream, Gammon of Bacon, and ripe Fruits, all these things; in place of mony, shall be willingly and neatly disht up to you.

For here you'l meet with complaints, that by the War the Houses are burnt, the Orchards destroied, and the growth of the Fields spoiled! therefore it is not fit that you should trouble the poor people, but think, this is the use, custom, and fruits of War. If the Impositions and Taxes run high, the Country Farmer can't help that; you know that the War costs mony, and it must be given, or else we should lose all.

At such a time as this, your only mirth must be; that, through this gallant marriage, you are now Lord of so many acres of Land, so many Orchards, and of so many dainty Houses and Land. If your mony bags don't much increase by it at present, but rather lessen, that most no waies cloud your mirth. Would you trouble your self at such trivial things, you'd have work enough daily. We cannot have all things so to our minds in this World. For if you had your Wives Portion down in ready mony, you'd have been at a stand again, where, without danger, you should have put it out at interest; fearing that they might play Bankrupt with it. Houses and Lands are alwaies fast, and they will pay well, when the War is done.

Therefore you must drive these vapors out of your head, and make your self merry, with the hearing that your friends commend the entertainment they have had to the highest; and that two or three daies hence; the merry Bridemen and Bridemaids, with some of the nearest acquaintance, will come _a la grandissimo_ to give you thanks for all the respect & civilities that you have so liberally bestowed upon them; which will be done then with such a friendly and affectionate heart, that it will be impossible for you, but you must invite them again to come and sup with you in the evening, and so make an addition to the former Pleasure; by which means pleasantness, mirth, and friendship, is planted and advanced among all the friends and acquaintance.

'Tis true, you'l be sure to hear that there were some at the Wedding who were displeased, for not being entertained according to their expectations; and because their Uncle, a new married Niece, and some other friends were not seated in their right places; that M^{rs}. _Leonora_ had a jole-pate to wait upon her; and M^{r}. _Philip_ an old _Beldam_; M^{r}. _Timothy_ was forced to wait upon a young snotty-nose; and that Squire _Neefer_ could not sit easily, and M^{rs}. _Betty's_ Gorget was rumbled; and that _Mal_, and _Peg Stones_, and _Dol Dirty-buttocks_, were almost throng'd in pieces; and could hardly get any of the Sweetmeats; but you must not at all be troubled with this, for 'tis a hard matter to please every body. 'Tis enough that you have been at such a vast charge, and presented them with your Feast.

Truly, they ought to have been contented & thankfull to the highest degree; and what they are unsatisfied with needed not to have cost you so much mony; for if you had left them all at home, you could have had no worse reward, but a great deal less charge. Comfort your self with this, that when it happens again, you will not buy ingratitude at so high a rate. 'Tis much better to invite them at two or three several times before hand, and entertain them with a merry glass of Wine, up and away; and then invite a small company which are better to govern and satisfied.

'Tis a great deal more pleasure for you, to see your Wives friends animate one another, to come, a fortnight after the Wedding, and surprize you; with shewing their thankfulness and satisfaction for the respect they have received from you; and that they are alwaies desirous to cultivate the friendship, by now and then coming to give you a visit.

This is here again a new joy! and as long as you keep open Table and Cellar for them, that reception will keep all discontent from growing among them. Yes, and it will please your Wife too, extraordinary well.

And by thus doing, you will not be subject to (as many other men are) your Wives maundring that you entertained her friends so hungrily and unhandsomly; but, for this, you shall be both by her, and her friends, beloved and commended in the highest degree: Yea it will be an incouragement that they in the same manner, will entertain your friends like an Angel, and be alwaies seeking to keep a fair correspondence among them. So that in the Summer time, for an afternoons collation you'l see a Fruit-dish of Grapes, Nuts, and Peaches prepared for you; which cold Fruits must then be warm'd with a good glass of Wine. And in the Winter, to please your appetite, a dish of Pancakes, Fritters, or a barrel of Oisters; but none of these neither will be agreeable without a delicate glass of Wine. Oh quintessence of all mirth! Who could not but wish to get such Aunts, such Cousins, & such Bridemen and Bridemaids in their marriage?

Therefore, if you meet with one or t'other of your Cousins, press him to go home with you, to refresh himself with a glass of Wine; O it will be extreamly pleasing to your Wife, and a double respect paid to him; because you bring him to a collation among other Cousins, and pretty Gentlewomen, where the knot of friendship and familiarity is renewed and faster twisted. And who knows, if you bring in a Batchelor, but there may perhaps arise a new marriage, which would be extraordinarily pleasing to your Wife; for there is nothing more agreeable to the female sex, then that they may be instrumental in helping their Bridemaids to husbands. And thus you will see a double increase of your Minions, and your Wife get more friends to accompany her, and drive fancies out of her head.

If your Wife should fail in her choice of houshold-stuff, and other sort of those appurtenances; doubt not but these will be prudent School-Mistresses for her, if she be unexperienc'd, to counsel and advise her to buy of the richest and newest mode, and what will be neatest, and where to be bought. Oh these are so skilfull in the art of ordring things, that you need not dispute with your Wife about the hanging of a Picture above the Chimney-mantel! for they'l presently say, there's nothing better in that place then large China dishes; and that Bed-stead must be taken down, and another set up in the place with curious Curtains and Vallians, and Daslles: And thus, they will deliver themselves, like a Court full of wise Counsellors, for the pleasure and instruction of your Beloved. Well, what could you wish for more? D'ye talk of mony? Pish, that's stamp'd with hammers: give it liberally; the good Woman knows how and where to lay it out. If there be but little mony by the hand; be silent of that, it might happen to disturb your Dear, and who knows wherein it may do her harm. It is not the fashion that Women, especially young married ones, should take care for that. 'Tis care enough for her, if she contrive and consider what must be bought, and what things will be most suitable together. For this care is so great, that she never wakens in the night, but she thinks on't; yea it costs her many an hours rest; therefore ought not to be so lightly esteemed.

And now, O young husband, since you are come to the first step of the School to exercise your patience; it is not fit that you should already begin to grumble and talk how needfull it is to be sparing and thrifty; that Merchandising and trading is mighty dead; that monies is not to be got in; and that here and there reckonings and bills must be paid: O no! you must be silent, tho you should burst with discontent. For herewith, perhaps, the whole house would be out of order; and you might get for an answer, How! have I married then a pittifull poor Bridegroom? This would be sad to hear.

Go therefore to School by _Pythagoras_ to learn silence; and to look upon all things in the beginning with patience; to let your Wife do her own pleasure; and to mix hony with your words. Then you shall possess the quintessence of this Pleasure fully, and with joyfull steps enter upon the folowing.

* * * * *

THE THIRD PLEASURE.

_The young couple walk daily abroad, being entertained and treated by all their friends and acquaintance; and then travell into the Country for their pleasure._

If it be true that there is a Mountain of Mirth and pleasure for young married people to ascend unto, these are certainly the finest and smoothest conductors to it; that, because it was impossible to invite every one to the Wedding, this sweet _Venus_ must be led abroad, and shewed to all her husbands friends & acquaintance: yea, all the World must see what a pretty couple they are, and how handsomly they agree together. To which end they trick and prick themselves daily up in their best apparel; garnishing both the whole city and streets with tatling and pratling; & staring into the houses of all their acquaintance to see whether they are looked at.

Do but see what a mighty and surpassing mirth! for they hardly can go ten or twelve furlongs but they constantly meet and are saluted by some of their acquaintance, wishing them all health, happiness and prosperity; or by others invited to come in, and are treated according as occasion presents, wishing them also much joy in their married estate; Yea the great Bowl is rins'd, and about goes a brimmer to the good prosperity of the young couple. Well, thinks the young woman, what a vast difference there is between being a married woman & a maid! How every one receives & treats you! What respect and honour every one shews you! How you go daily in all your gallantry taking pleasure! And how every where you are fawn'd upon, imbrac'd and kist, receiving all manner of friendship! It is no wonder that all womankind are so desirous of marriage, and no sooner lose their first husbands, but they think immediately how to get a second? Oh, saith she, what a fulness of joy there is in the married estate, by Virginity! I resolve therefore to think also upon my Bridemaids, and to recommend them where ever there is occasion.

And this is the least yet, do but see! what for greater pleasure! for every foot you are invited out here & there to a new treat, that is oft-times as noble and as gallant as the Wedding was, and are plac'd alwaies at the upper end of the Table. If next day you be but a little drousie, or that the head akes; the husband knows a present remedy to settle the brain; and the first thing he saith, is, Come lets go to see Master or Mistriss such a one, and walk out of Town to refresh our selves, or else go and take the air upon the _Thames_ with a Pair of Oars. Here is such a fresh mirth again that all _Lambeth_, the _Bankside_, and _Southwark_ shakes with it. Oh that _Apollo_ would but drive his horses slowly, that the day might be three hours longer; for it is too soon to depart, and that for fear of a pocky setting of the Watch. So that its every day Fair-time. Well, who is so blind that he cannot see the abundant pleasures of marriage?

To this again, no sooner has the young couple been some few daies at rest, and begin to see that the invitements decline; but the young woman talks of going out of Town together, and to take their pleasures in other Towns and Cities, first in the next adjacent places, and then to others that ly remoter; for, because she never was there, and having heard them commended to be such curious and neat places, she hath a great mind to see _Oxford_ and _Cambridge._

Yea, and then she saith, my dear, we must go also to see _York_, _Glocester_ and _Bristol_, and take our pleasures those waies; for I have heard my Fathers Book keeper often say, that it is very pleasant travelling thither, and all things very cheap. And when he began to relate any thing of Kent, and its multiplicity of fruit, my very heart leapt up for joy; thinking to my self, as soon as I am married, I will immediately be pressing my husband that we may go thither; because it seem'd to me almost incredible. And then again he would sometimes relate of _Herefordshire_ what delicious Syder and Perry is made there, which I am a great lover of; truly Hony, we must needs go that way once, that I may say I have satiated my self with it, at the Fountain-head. Ah, my dearest, let us go thither next week.

It is most certain that the Good-man hath no mind at all to be thus much longer out of his house, & from his vocation; by reason he is already so much behind hand with his loss of time in Wooing, Wedding, Feasting and taking pleasure; but alas, let him say what he will, he cannot disswade her from it.

_You may as soon retort the wind, As make a woman change her mind._

In the night she dreams on't, and by day she talks on't, and alwaies concludes this to be her certain rule. "The first year won't come again. If we don't take some pleasure now, when shall we do it! Oh, my Dear, a year hence we may have a child, then its impossible for me to go any where, but I shall be tied like a Dog to a chain: And truly, why should not we do it as well as they & they did; for they were out a month or two, and took their pleasures to the purpose? my Mother, or my Cousin will look to our house; come let us go also out of Town! For the first year will not come again."

Well, what shall the good man do? if he will have quietness with his wife, he must let her have her will, or else she will be daily tormenting of him. And to give her harsh language, he can't do that, for he loves her too well. His father also taught him this saying, for a marriage lesson, _Have a care of making the first difference._ If he speak unkindly to her, his Love might be angry, and then that would occasion the first difference, which he by no means willingly would be guilty of; for then these Pleasures would not have their full swing.

Well, away they go now out of Town: But, uds lid, what a weighty trunk they send the Porter with to the Carriers! For they take all their best apparel with them, that their friends in the Country, may see all their bravery. And besides all this, there must be a riding Gown, and some other new accoutrements made for the journy, or else it would have no grace.

Now then, away they go, every one wishing them all health and prosperity upon their journy, & so do I.

But see! they are hardly ridden ten mile out of Town, before the young woman begins to be so ill with the horses jolting, that she thinks the World turns topsie-turvy with her. Oh she's so ill, that she fears she shall vomit her very heart up. Then down lights her husband, to take her off, and hold her head, and is in such a peck of troubles, that he knows not which way to turn or wind himself. Wishing that he might give all that he's worth in the World to be at a good Inn. And she poor creature falling into a swoon, makes him look as if he had bepist himself, & though he sighs and laments excessively she hears him not; which occasions him such an extremity of grief that he's ready to tear the hair off of his head. But the quamishness of her stomack beginning to decline, she recovers; and rising, they walk for a little space softly forwards; the good man thinking with himself how he shall do to get his dearly beloved to an Inn, that she may there rest her distempered body. And then getting her up again, they ride very softly forwards, to get to the end of their journy.

Truly, I must confess, that amongst the rest of the Pleasures of marriage, this is but a very sorry one. But stay a little, yonder me thinks I see the Steeple, we shall be there presently; the little trouble and grief you have had, will make the salutations you receive, and the scituation of the place seem so much the pleasanter. And these dainty green Meadows will be a delicate refreshment. You'l find your stomack not only sharpned, but also curiously cleansed of all sorts of filthy and slimy humours. And you light not sooner from your horse then your appetite is ready to entertain what ever comes before you: The good Man in the mean while is contriving at whose house he shall first whet his knife, and where he thinks his poor wearied wife will receive the best entertainment and caresses, to drive out of her imaginations the troubles and wearisomness of her journy; which will the easier be dispensed with, when she walks out to see the rarities of the place, and to visit your Cousins and relations. And so much the more, because every one will be wishing the new married couple much joy, receiving them kindly, and doing them all manner of pleasures and civilities: which I assure you is no small matter of mirth.

But every thing must have an end. It is therefore now very meet to speak of removing to some other City. But let the husband say what he will of travelling by horseback, she is struck on that ear with an incurable deafness.