would have thought
the Hinges would have given Way. We went down, you must think, with no
very good Countenances; and as we sneaked off, and were driving home
together, he confessed to me, that her Anger was thus highly raised,
because he did not think fit to fight a Gentleman who had said she was
what she was; but, says he, a kind Letter or two, or fifty pieces,
will put her in Humour again. I asked him why he did not part with
her; he answered, he loved her with all the Tenderness imaginable, and
she had too many Charms to be abandoned for a little Quickness of
Spirit. Thus does this illegitimate Hen-pecked over-look the Hussy's
having no Regard to his very Life and Fame, in putting him upon an
infamous Dispute about her Reputation; yet has he the Confidence to
laugh at me, because I obey my poor Dear in keeping out of Harm's Way,
and not staying too late from my own Family, to pass through the
Hazards of a Town full of Ranters and Debauchees. You that are a
Philosopher should urge in our behalf, that when we bear with a
froward Woman, our Patience is preserved, in consideration that a
breach with her might be a Dishonour to Children who are descended
from us, and whose Concern makes us tolerate a thousand Frailties, for
fear they should redound Dishonour upon the Innocent. This and the
like Circumstances, which carry with them the most valuable Regards of
human Life, may be mentioned for our long Suffering; but in the case
of Gallants, they swallow ill Usage from one to whom they have no
Obligation, but from a base Passion, which it is mean to indulge, and
which it would be glorious to overcome.

'These Sort of Fellows are very numerous, and some have been
conspicuously such, without Shame; nay they have carried on the Jest
in the very Article of Death, and, to the Diminution of the Wealth and
Happiness of their Families, in bar of those honourably near to them,
have left immense Wealth to their Paramours. What is this but being a
Cully in the Grave! Sure this is being Hen-peck'd with a Vengeance!
But without dwelling upon these less frequent Instances of eminent
Cullyism, what is there so common as to hear a Fellow curse his Fate
that he cannot get rid of a Passion to a Jilt, and quote an Half-Line
out of a Miscellany Poem to prove his Weakness is natural? If they
will go on thus, I have nothing to say to it: But then let them not
pretend to be