The Sport's still carry'd on, but under-hand, She seems the Chastest Wife in all the Land, Oh! how she blames her self for former Deeds, And says her Heart within with Sorrow bleeds.

Which he believes, because she sheds some Tears, And frees his Mind from Sorrow grief and Cares.

She Apes the Saint, by framing Modest Look, Tho' perfect Devil in a Private Nook.

Deceives her Husband with her cunning Wiles, And Cheats his Scenses with her feigned Smiles.

_The Eleventh Comfort._

Extreamly fond the Cuckold hugs his Choice, Well pleas'd to think the Wh.o.r.e has left her Vice, Gives her fine Cloaths, and Money what she craves, Which she as freely spends on Rogues and Knaves.

Her private Stallion now will not suffice, Her l.u.s.t encreases as her Favours rise, New Faces Charm the roving Brimstone Jilt, And with each Beau she acts new fancy'd Guilt.

When time and place her wickedness denies, She feeds her thoughts with her lascivious eyes.

_The Twelfth Comfort._

Yet all this while the Husband thinks his Wife Is Penitent, and leads a Virtuous Life.

Because she fawns and flatters Night and Day, He can't believe she'll ever go astray.

No Cost he spares to satisfie her Pride, } But makes her equal with the loftiest Bride, } While Watch of Gold hangs dangling by her side. } He strains his Pocket to maintain her high, And freely let's his Gold and Silver fly.

Nay, sells his Lands, her Honour to defend, And thus is ruin'd by his Bosom Friend.

_The Thirteenth Comfort._

She thus goes on and spends his Wealth so fast, That he begins to think of what is past.

Takes notice of her Visits out of Town, And wonders where she's Coach'd so up and down, Enquires of _John_ (who now seems Jealous too) And asks him what he thinks his Wife will do.

The Servant's vext, but dares not yet disclose, Not half the Truth of what he really knows.

Yet being willing something to impart, Declares he's very sorry at his Heart.

To think how much she daily spends in Waste, And adds, he doubts, she is not over Chaste.

But shak'd his Head, as if 'twas spoke in jest.

And left his Master to find out the rest.

_The Fourteenth Comfort._

The Matter having wisely took the hint, Begins to fear there may be something in't.

But still unwilling, to expose her shame, He is resolved to tell her of the same.

Next Night he took occasion thus to say, _My Dear, pray tell me, where you've been to Day_.

I hope (says she) you'll not be Jealous now, D'ye think I'll d.a.m.n my self to break my Vow?

I'd have you know I scorn the thing you fear, Of such foul Deeds my Conscience now is clear.

But this I tell you for your further ease, Where I have been, I'll go when e'er I please.

Do you think I'll be kept in like a Drone, While others reap the Pleasures of the Town.

No Faith, I'll never yield to such hard Fate.

To be confin'd; is what I always hate.

The Honest Husband hearing what she said.

He stood amaz'd, but yet no Answer made.

He plainly saw his Ruin coming on, His own Disgrace, and all his Money gone.

He now believes what he wou'd not before, } His Pious Wife is still a Brimstone Wh.o.r.e, } Who made him Cuckold, and confounded Poor. }

_The Fifteenth Comfort._

Thus wanton Wives are Plagues beyond compare, The Devil's Nets, poor Mankind to ensnare.

His Traps to catch a Heedless Sinner in, His Instruments to tempt a Saint to Sin.

His curst Decoys to bring Destruction on, And make a Man despair when all is gone.

His Factors here on Earth, to Trade in Vice, His Catch-poles to betray us in a trice.

His Vermine to consume our very Food; His Leeches to suck out our Precious Blood.

His Wolves in Sheeps Apparrel to us sent, To Rob and Spoil us of our true content.

His Toads to Poison Soul and Bodies too.

And send to h.e.l.l more than's the Devil's due.

_FINIS._