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Why, no truly, says he, I can't say I have much love for you, or for any Body else.
Why then do you marry, pray? says she.
Why, Madam, to tell you the truth, says he, I want a Woman, and I am loth to go to a Whore; so I will supply my self in a lawful way.
This would be very Impudent, you'll say, it may be; but I must add, 'tis honest, and much honester, than to swear he loves her above all the World, damns himself over and over if he don't; tells her a thousand Lies to draw her in, and when he is married, tells her the Truth in a Brutish and insolent manner, that he never cared one Farthing for her; that he wanted a Woman, and took her for his Convenience; and that now he has had his fill of her, she would greatly oblige him if she would dispose of her self out of his way, offering her one of his Garters for the Occasion.
It would lead me into the grand Error of Language, which I have profess'd to avoid, if I should pretend to give this wicked vile Part, a full Delineation; 'tis difficult to express such a dirty Subject in clean Words; and therefore I avoid giving the Ladies the Anatomy of a Couple come together without a previous Affection; or the Discourses that pass between them when perhaps, one Side or other are disappointed in the grand Expectation. It would surfeit the Reader to hear a certain Tradesman's Lady call her Husband ——— Dog, and ask him what he thinks she married him for? Nor should I mention so foul a Story, did not Mrs. ——— ——— give all her Neighbours leave to hear her say a thousand Things, in plainer English, to him every Day, of a grosser kind.
If
