Two Sparks were earnest in Debate,
Touching Man's Life in marry'd State;
The One for Matrimony stood,
And preach'd in grave and solemn Mood,
By Head and Shoulders forcing, oddly,
To tagg each Sentence something Godly,
With many a learned Application
From Genesis to Revelation —
In Politick's he wisely shew'd,
What Honours Sparta 's Laws bestow'd
On those who marry'd in their Prime,
And never lost a teeming Time.
And how the ancient Roman Nation
Had the same Rules in Imitation;
And how their Senate oft decreed,
That Men should wed to mend the Breed:
How all those Heroes, whose Renown
Fame's Trump has handed to us down,
For Cities storm'd, and Kingdoms won,
Were each an honest Mother's Son.
How modern Romans do, indeed,
Neglect to mind a lawful Breed;
But diverse Practices pursue
Which their Fore-fathers never knew,
And set their whole Affections on
The Scarlet Whore of Babylon :
Which we, good Protestants o'th' Nation,
Are bound to think Abomination;
For which such mortal Hate they bear Us,
And Curse us bitterly like Meroz
Dick listen'd to his wise Quotations,
And heard him out with all his Patience,
At length he cry'd, 'Sblood John ( bar swearing )
This idle Talk is past all bearing.
You mention old Lycurgus' Laws,
And Spartan Rules and ancient Saws,
When all this foolish Prittle-prattle,
Is just like rattle , Bladder , rattle .
I say, that Rome 's a prudent City,
If you don't think so too, 'tis pity.
'Pray, if your Memory don't 'scape ye,
Know you a marry'd Man that's happy?
People may talk and make a Pother,
They're but Decoys for one another.
The Fox had ne'er Aversion shewn
To Tails — if he had had his own.
So they, that fall into the Gin,
Draw, like Free-Masons , others in.
Women, I own, were made for Men,
For their Diversion now and then:
But then, to cap your wisest Sentence,
Pleasure's attended by Repentance.
What we may once repent; a Wife
Makes us repent of during Life .
For whatsoever some pretend,
Wives are but Wives, to their Lives End.
And he that marries, to his Cost,
Will find his Labour not well lost.
As France 's King, of high Renown,
Went up the Hill — and so came down.
John bless'd himself, and scratcht his Head,
And looking very wisely, said,
Methinks I smell, in this Discourse,
Free-thinking rank — or something worse.
Don't you think Marriage is a serious
Type of a Tye abstruse, mysterious?
Surely the Text you understand ill,
Else Women you would better handle.
Diversion, quotha why, we find
Women for graver Ends design'd:
To be our Help-meets in our Need,
When real Friends are Friends indeed,
To share a Part of our Distress,
And, by that Share, to make it less.
To clean our Houses, milk our Kine.
And mind when Boars gallant our Swine;
To drudge about domestick Bus'ness,
And scold at Servants for Remissness:
Are not these Things of mighty Weight,
To ease us, in the marry'd State?
Besides an hundred Things of Course,
That might my Argument enforce,
To strive an hundred Ways t' oblige us,
Which I'll abridge, as being tedious,
Since all the Joys that Life affords,
Are comprehended in few Words;
For don't the Rituals plainly say,
To love, to honour and obey?
You have it there indeed, says Dick ,
Obedience is the usual Trick.
They promise it before the Priest,
But saying that, they mean it least:
Or else they take so little Notice,
That what they promise soon forgot is;
For other Thoughts so crowd the Head
They neither mind what's done or said,
Obedience soon has lost its Force,
And only seems a Word of Course,
And notwithstanding Vows or Oaths
They doff it with their Wedding-Cloaths.
But since the Rituals, you maintain,
Appear so positive and plain,
I'll venture with you, if you dare,
A Wager you shall own is fair,
That low Obedience is more common,
And oft'ner found, in Man than Woman.
And thus the Matter we'll decide,
A Cart and Horses we'll provide,
Hampers of Eggs shall be the Load,
Thus furnish'd out, we'll take the Road,
At each Plantation make a Stand,
To know who bears the upper Hand.
Where e'er the Wife usurps the Throne,
An Egg we'll leave them and be gone:
But if the Woman does obey,
Submitting to her Husband's Sway,
If all his Orders have full Force,
We'll give this Miracle an Horse.
Yet all I'm worth I will engage here,
To half its Value, on this Wager,
That all our Eggs are gone in Course,
Before one Husband gets a Horse.
So said so done — the Wager's laid,
Preliminary Earnest paid,
They both consult the Men of Law
Authentic Covenants to draw,
And then the hopeful Tour begin,
Both pleas'd — for both were sure to win.
From that fair Town where rising Day
Does first thy House of Law survey,
Where Learning's Seat behold th'Extreams
Of Western Lights departing Beams,
As if contriv'd to let us see
Both one and t'other's Destiny,
Our Travellers jog'd easy on,
Nor left a House uncall'd-upon,
Both where James -River's Northern Shore
Shrinks from its foamy Current's Roar,
And where York River's angry Tide
Impetuous beats its Southern Side;
But still where e'er they did advance
Dick seem'd to stand the fairest Chance:
The gentle Husband, at each House,
Gave Way to his superior Spouse,
The Wife took all the Rule upon her,
Just to preserve her Sex's Honour.
The Widow's Houses pass'd no Trial,
Their's was the Sway without Denial.
And Widow'rs came with Honour off,
Whose Cases could admit no Proof,
Elsewhere th' Event was still the same,
The Man obey'd the ruling Dame.
And still those Tyrants were the proudest,
Who oft'nest bred, or scolded loudest.
Dick now, whose rip'ning Hopes to win,
Had rais'd him to a merry Pin,
Cry'd out, Ay, ay, it will be so,
When Cocks are trod, the Hens may Crow.
O the delicious blissful Joys
Of Pride, Impertinence and Noise!
I'll tell thee what, my Friend — I know,
A Man whose Wife is — but so, so;
And tho' she oft adorns his Scull
With the fine Feathers of a Bull,
And many a Time has fork'd his Crown,
By Night, by Day, up Stairs and down,
And tho' her Actions plainly shew it,
Yet dares not he be thought to know it:
Not that he fears or minds the Shame
Attendant on a Cuckold's Name,
Nor for the Credit of his Wife,
But for the Quiet of his Life:
For if a Wife's a Vixen Scold,
Imperious, termagant, and bold,
Whilst she conceals herself, and none
Know, or will speak of, what sh' has done,
How will she grow more fierce and stout,
When all her Treachery breaks out,
And hearing on't from Time to Time,
She grows more harden'd in her Crime? —
But let us on — we soon shall know
Which Way the Wager is to go.
The Story says, that thus they travel'd
Till luckless John was sorely gravel'd;
Of Hope and Patience quite bereft,
And only one poor Egg was left:
When Fortune wary of her Spleen
Contriv'd to shew a diff'rent Scene,
And prove that Dick , how e'er elate,
Was not above the Reach of Fate:
For near that Spring which hands us down
King Totapotamoy 's Renown,
Arriving at a Planter's Door,
They ask'd, as they'd done oft before,
Whose House was that? With surly Phiz,
The Planter answer'd, It was his:
But, Sir, says Dick , Sans Complement ,
Our Question otherwise was meant,
We want to know who rules the House,
Whether yourself, or else your Spouse?
Walk in, the Planter cry'd, we'll try
Who's Master here, my Wife or I.
This Planter had a Hick'ry Stick,
Well-season'd, drubbing proof, and thick,
Oft and on many Causes try'd
To dress and tan his Dearest's Hide,
Whether she lay too long in Bed,
Or left uncomb'd her Daughter's Head;
Or if she fail'd to sweep the House,
Or night and morn to milk the Cows;
Sometimes, for thirst, his Limbs would fail,
And lo! no Gourd was in the Pail!
Sometimes his Beef was over boil'd,
At other Times his Coleworts spoil'd;
Or if she fail'd in her Allegiance.
The Hick'ry taught her due Obedience:
As you may see on Muster-Days,
When Nicholas does his Cudgel raise,
And when his Looks the Soldier quails
Who awkward in his Duty fails:
Thus were this Pain in diff'rent Taking,
Imperious he, for Fear she quaking:
He order'd her to wipe his Shoes,
She lowly stoop'd, nor durst refuse;
He sent her to the Spring, she went
Nor shew'd the smallest Discontent;
He gave her many Orders more
Which I for Brevity pass o'er,
Until he shew'd to Dick 's Disaster,
That He was Sov'reign, Lord, and Master.
Dick give the Wager now for lost,
And John had kindly thank'd his Host,
Bidding him choose among the Team
Which Horse the best for him should seem;
The Planter look'd on all around,
And chose the Horse he likeliest found;
When as his Wife with angry Voice
Cry'd out, You've made a silly Choice:
Where are your Eyes? What, Can't you see?
You'd better far be rul'd by me.
And make your Choice of that Grey Mare,
I'm sure you'll find no better there.
The Planter straight the Grey Mare views,
And handles her as Jockeys use;
Adzooks cries he, you're in the Right,
This Grey is better than that White,
So I'll e'en take the Mare away —
Dick interrupting, bid him stay;
My Case was desperate I own,
But now the Table's turn'd, I've won;
You see here, John , how Woman rules,
We Men have ever been their Tools:
The surly, and the complaisant,
The sly, the witty, and gallant,
Spight of their Haughtiness or Funning,
Must yield, or to their Pow'r or Cunning.
Then to the Planter turning round,
I'm glad the Mare's the better found;
But 'tis not worth your While to fret, or
Fume, tho' th' Grey Mare proves the better:
'Tis ev'ry honest Husband's Case,
And will be so, and always was:
My Luck has prov'd me not mistaken,
And with this Egg — I've sav'd my Bacon.