she spends his Wealth so fast,
'Till Pocky Pains begins to smart below,
Then mildly asks her if she made him so?
At which she swears, and bold'y starts this Whim,
That she had catch'd the Foul Disease of him:
Which strange Retort, makes him suspect the Crime,
She had concealed from him so long a time.

_The Sixth Comfort._

He tells her of her Faults, and mildly says,
Dear Wife 'tis got by going thus to Plays.
To which she answers, like a Cunning Jilt,
_It is the very cause of this my Guilt,
But take my Word, I ne'er did so before.
Nor never while I live, do so no more._
With feigned Tears, and with a _Judas_ Kiss;
She said _(My Dear) I own I have done amiss.
But if you'll Pardon me this very time,
I'll for the future loath so vile a Crime._

_The Seventh Comfort._

The Man o're-joy'd to hear such Words as these,
From her, he hardly ever yet could please.
In loving Terms, embrac'd her in his Arms,
And said, his chief delight was in her Charms.
Besides he added, if she would be Chaste,
He'd freely Pardon'd her for what was past.
All seeming Friendship now's afresh renew'd.
On promise she wou'd ne'er again be Leud.
With Tears and Kisses, (Woman like) she Fawns.
And asks his Pardon on her Marrow-bones.

_The Eighth Comfort._

The Cunning Jilt, she being thus forgiven,
Next studdies how to make her Ballance even.
That is to please her Husband and her Friend,
And all this while a Vertuous Wife pretend.
At last she makes a League with _John_ her Man,
And thus afresh her Wickedness began,
By subtle Arts, more cautious than before,
She pleas'd her Husband, yet was still a Whore.

_The Ninth Comfort._

Thus seeming Prudence, when 'tis ill apply'd,
It makes the Breach more dangerous and wide.
For tho' it may at first appear more bright,
And something dazling to a weaker light.
Yet being view'd with more discerning thought,
What seem'd real good, is found to be stark nought.
For this base Woman grows from bad to worse,
And proves her Husband's Plague, as well as Curse;
C