Tis only known where Wedlock Bonds are wrought.


_Answer to the Fourth Mock Comfort._

The Marriage-hater here is forc'd to own,
The many Comforts which doth Wedlock Crown.
But strives to mix it with such Cares and Toil,
As if curs'd Malice cou'd such Blessings spoil.
Makes Charges frightful on that very score,
As if Mankind should ne'er encrease no more;
Nay, _Atheist_-like, he makes it ten times worse,
And calls _God's Blessings_ nothing but a Curse:
Our Sons are Sots, and all our Daughters Whores,
Because we keep the Woolf just from the Doors:
Was ever Man so void of Sense and Shame,
As thus against all Reason to exclaim?
As if a Wife her Kindness to impart,
Shou'd teaze her Husband as to break his Heart:
This is such Stuff as ne'er was heard before,
But hope the like again shall see no more.


_Answer to the Fifth Mock Comfort._

I here agree with this, my Rhiming Foe,
And own 'tis Folly when the Case is so;
For whatsoe'er the cunning Jilt pretend
To her Old Husband, yet she'll have Her Friend;
She'll coax the Dotard when his Bags are full,