%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A VINDICATION / OF A / Marriage Life: / In Answer to the Broadside against / MARRIAGE. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/18/2014 34011

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R187856 THou dull insipid Wretch, who could'st not choose, / An apter Theme for thy Prophaner Muse: Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1172 A VINDICATION / OF A / Marriage Life: / In Answer to the Broadside against / MARRIAGE. A VINDICATION OF A Marriage Life: In Answer to the Broadside against MARRIAGE. ?-? J.L.T. Ashfield

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 6/18/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America marriage religious concepts sex/ sexuality Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/18/2014 8:20:58 AM XBallad Jaworski, Cheryl Created XML Version of Ballad 6/18/2014 8:20:58 AM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 8:20:58 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 8:20:58 AM Transcriptionist Two Keller Scotch, Grace Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 8:20:58 AM Transcriptionist One Naler, Erin Transcription of ballad manuscript 12/16/2013 Checker Christopher Foley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/26/2012 Bibliographer Olivia Miller Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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THou dull insipid Wretch, who could'st not choose, An apter Theme for thy Prophaner Muse: Thy limping Pegasus though shod with Rime Flounders and halts ev'n in the second Line. As if like Balaams Ass, he durst not go His usual Pace against A Godly Foe. Thou Mercinariest Rhymer of the Town, Thou Pimp to all Debauches for a Crown, Who for a Strumpet's Fee dost thus dispence, With breach of Laws of God and Conscience. And rather then thy Luxury controul Wilt sell the noble Charter of thy Soul. Nay had the other poor half Crown bin giv'n, I dare to swear Th'adst sold thy claim to Heav'n! From the du[l]l Poem we collect no more But only that thou art, A Son of a Whore The Harlots Champion and her part dost take Because thou lov'st her for thy Mothers sake. And who can think him less who thus derides The holy Priviledges of happy Brides. Who cause himself's a Bastard won't allow The blest effects of a conjugal Vow. So Thieves and Rogues who boast their own esteem Would have she honest, though as bad as them. And with loud Oaths applaud that very crime, For which perhaps they're hang'd another time, Which just deserved Fate since 'tis his due; I wish may reach our Poetaster too: Who by a long accustom'd trick of thieving Is the known Robber both of th' Dead and Living, When hir'd Verse hath worn his fancy bare, His Brain as Empty as his Pockets are. Made desperate through want, like some mad Lad, That's driven by necessity to Padd: He rifles all the Poets in the Town And what he rudely seizes, makes his own. No Play or Character, e're yet was Writ, But suffers by this High-way man of Wit. Who wheresoe're he meets it bids it stand And quietly resign at his Command. No wonder then if such as he degrade The spotless pleasures of a Marriage Bed; Whose Infamous Progenitors ne're knew What honours to that happy 'state is due: But still ran on in an Incestious Line, And knew their Parentage no more than Swine: Thus I dare swear, Incorrigible Sot, Thou was't not got by any holy Plot;
But as a hated Judgement didst proceed To punish those who did so ill a Deed. By thy own Parents Recon'd a mishap Whose Birth they dreaded worser than A Clap. Thy Mother curst thee in her very womb, And wish'd her belly might have been thy Tomb: So passionately mad she was to see, That thou shoul'st spoil her 6 Months Letchery: What shall I say thou thing of low Estate! The longest Curs's too short to reach thy Fate, To make comparison 'twixt Hell and thee, Were but to complement thy misery, And by so mild a simily to press, Too modest thoughts on thy unhappiness. Enjoy thyself, thy Royets and thy Wenches, Thy Pocky Pills, thy Dyet, Drink and Drenches; Commend thy Plaisters, Scringes, and Fluxes, And swear there's no such pleasure as the Pox is: Thy snuffling Eloquence shall ne're disswade Me from the Pleasures of my Nuptial Bed. Marriage the Noble Center of the Mind, Wherein an Heaven we only quiet find: The even Calme of fifty pleasant Years, Wherein no storms but those of love appears, And repetitions of our Chast delights, Which we like Gods enjoy without affrights, We run no hazards, but go to't with ease, Squenching our Souls, and leaving when we please; Cloy'd with the pleasures of the active Night, Our minds next day repeat the blest delight; Flush'd with sweet kisses, our desires move So high we drown our Duty in our Love. Marriage, the holy order which confines, Our stragling faculties to good designes, That wise retreat which bids us take a View, Both of our selves, and of our fortunes too, Which busie Youth could ne're abide to do- A Wife! that sweet divider of our cares! Doubles our joy and half our sorrow shares: If angry Destiny our Fortune shakes, She smiles, and heals those wounds which Fortune maxes: Sugar'd within humble Language, she Calmly diverts our Growing misery. In short a Vertuous Wife's a good estate, And he who has her is secur'd by Fate, To Live in Credit, and be Fortunate.
Printed for J. L. T. [A]s[h]field.