The HAPPY HUSBAND, And The OLD BATCHELOR. A Dialogue. A Country Gentleman of late, Of honest fame and good estate, Who with a Sober virtuous Wife, For many Years had led his life; Walk'd in the Fields to take the Air, And chanc'd to meet his Neighbour there, A Gentleman of good degree, Polite, and gay, of humour free; Who long had been to love inclin'd, But ne'er cou'd fix his wav'ring mind, And being met at his desire, They to his Neighbouring house retire; A Rural Seat, which for long Space Had gone in the Paternal race, There in the Hall they both regale With generous Wine and Nappy Ale, Until the Evening being come, The Guest talk'd of Returning home. Husband. My Dearest Wife will think, said he, That Some mishap has fall'n on me. Batchelor. His friend reply'd, with scornful air, I thank my Stars I've no such care; Long, as I please, abroad I stay, And Seldom ask what time of day: I game and quaff away the Night, And reel to Bed at Morning light; Thus I pursue my pleasure free, And have no Wife to rail at me: Such fatal Curbs I cannot bear, And therefore took a prudent care, To Shun the Matrimonial Snare. Husband. His friend reply'd with chearful voice I never did repent my choice, I wou'd not have the Golden Chain, Of Hymen be unlink'd again. Nor wou'd I leave my Dearest Wife, To gain the greatest good of life: Long as I please abroad I bide, And do not fear my Wife will chide, For she is So obliging, I Take pleasure in her company: Her kind advice she doth impart, And by her prudence gains my heart; While you abroad unsettled roam For want of such a Spouse at home; Tis an unhappy life you lead, No faithful Friend in time of need: Thus, Shou'd you die, you'd leave no Son, To take your place when you are gone. Batchelor. That's more, my friend, than you do know I may have Sons and Daughters too, Without the trouble of a Wife I can enjoy the Sweets of life, To marry I shall make no haste, Variety doth please my taste, Your counsel doth not please my mind, Because I hate to be confin'd. Husband. It may indeed, my friend, be So, You may have Sons and Daughters too, But if you have, you must be blam'd, And of your Offspring be asham'd, While Sober men their Children prize, Your Progeny you Basterdize, Of such you have no cause to boast; Your race extinct, and name quite lost; For while you thus with harlots rove You never know the Sweets of love, Nor taste those comforts that attend A Virtuous Wife, and faithful friend, When I with any crosses meet I to my Dearest Spouse retreat, Whose prudent counsel has the Art To ease my care, and chear my heart, She doth all ways and means improve To rule the House in Peace and love Her mild commands and gentle Sway Her Servants willingly obey; Thus by her prudent management, My life's a Scene of true content. Batchelor. Indeed, my Friend, if this be so, You are the happiest Man I know. For you enjoy I plainly find, The Phoenix of the Female kind; Surely there are but very few Cou'd justly boast as now you do, If I cou'd meet with such a Wife, Myself wou'd chuse a marry'd life. Husband. My Friend, if I may speak my mind, As Virtuous Wives are hard to find, I think it equally as true, That loving Husbands are so too I wish that man wou'd know his place, As Lord of the created race, Vicegerent of this spacious ball, A Shining light observ'd by all; Wise in his conduct he wou'd be, A Pattern to his Family, And by his own Example lead His Spouse the path wherein to tread: Wou'd he to her himself approve, And ever bear a constant love, I am persuaded we shou'd find Most Women virtuous, just and kind. In bodies natural, we see If once the Head distemper'd be, The curious fabrick feels the Smart, And bears by Sympathy a part; In bodies Politick the Same, Then can we think our Wives to blame, If they shou'd blindly venture on Those vicious ways ourselves have gone; But where strict virtue bears the Sway, That virtue cannot lead astray. When mild reproofs have little force To check a Husband's vicious course, A Wife provok'd, with rage and fear, May utter truth he hates to hear. But now before I make an end, Let me advise you as a friend, To chuse a Consort that may be A blessing to your Family. But let not wealth or grandeur move To wed with one you cannot love, No doubt but you a Girl may find To bring you Gold and please your mind; But if it otherwise should prove Set Money by and wed for love, A Pleasant, chaste, and comely Dame, Of good descent and honest fame; All other Objects banish quite And fix on her your whole delight; Let words and actions still commend Yourself to be her faithful friend; Then be assur'd you'll not complain Of want of due respect again. Batchelor. My friend, shou'd I be rul'd by you, I to all joys must bid adieu And that which most of all does grieve, My old companions I must leave, Those jovial Sparks I plainly See Offensive to a Wife will be, And if they shou'd not, I confess My trouble will be ne'er the less; For when they at my House appear I of my brows shall Stand in fear; Therefore I think I must go on To live as I've already done. Husband. If jealousy your mind possess, You'll ne'er be happy I confess, But Sure with care you may prevent, The causes of such discontent, If you are constant in your love, Your Wife will hardly ever rove, And for your jovial Company, Whate'er you have been let them See, To virtue's rules your Strict conformity. If they their wicked courses hold, You friendship quickly will grow cold, If they reform the case is clear, Of them you need not stand in fear; And thus you may prevent all Strife And lead a Sweet contented life. Batchelor. My loving friend, I plainly See Good counsel you have given me, And now my friend, I freely own, My former courses past and gone, Did for a moment please the mind, But leave a bitter Sting behind; Altho' my bloom of life be past, I hope I shall reform at last. But first my care shall be apply'd To chuse a virtuous loving Bride, And So behave to her that we May live in love and unity, So may we find our Joys increase, For Virtue's ways are paths of peace.