Well, what shall the good man do? if he will have quietness with his wife, he must let her have her will, or else she will be daily tormenting of him.  And to give her harsh language, he can’t do that, for he loves her too well.  His father also taught him this saying, for a marriage lesson, Have a care of making the first difference. If he speak unkindly to her, his Love might be angry, and then that would occasion the first difference, which he by no means willingly would be guilty of; for then these Pleasures would not have their full swing.

Well, away they go now out of Town:  But, uds lid, what a weighty trunk they send the Porter with to the Carriers!  For they take all their best apparel with them, that their friends in the Country, may see all their bravery.  And besides all this, there must be a riding Gown, and some other new accoutrements made for the journy, or else it would have no grace.

Now then, away they go, every one wishing them all health and prosperity upon their journy, & so do I.

But see! they are hardly ridden ten mile out of Town, before the young woman begins to be so ill with the horses jolting, that she thinks the World turns topsie-turvy with her.  Oh she’s so ill, that she fears she shall vomit her very heart up.  Then down lights her husband, to take her off, and hold her head, and is in such a peck of troubles, that he knows not which way to turn or wind himself.  Wishing that he might give all that he’s worth in the World to be at a good Inn.  And she poor creature falling into a swoon, makes him look as if he had bepist himself, & though he sighs and laments excessively she hears him not; which occasions him such an extremity of grief that he’s ready to tear the hair off of his head.  But the quamishness of her stomack beginning to decline, she recovers; and rising, they walk for a little space softly forwards; the good man thinking with himself how he shall do to get his dearly beloved to an Inn, that she may there rest her distempered body.  And then getting her up again, they ride very softly forwards, to get to the end of their journy.

Truly, I must confess, that amongst the rest of the Pleasures of marriage, this is but a very sorry one.  But stay a little, yonder me thinks I see the Steeple, we shall be there presently; the little trouble and grief you have had, will make the salutations you receive, and the scituation of the place seem so much the pleasanter.  And these dainty green Meadows will be a delicate refreshment.  You’l find your stomack not only sharpned, but also curiously cleansed of all sorts of filthy and slimy humours.  And you light not sooner from your horse then your appetite is ready to entertain what ever comes before you:  The good Man in the mean while is contriving at whose house he shall first whet his knife, and where he thinks his poor wearied wife will receive the best entertainment and caresses, to drive out of her imaginations the troubles and wearisomness of her journy; which will the easier be dispensed with, when she walks out to see the rarities of the place, and to visit your Cousins and relations.  And so much the more, because every one will be wishing the new married couple much joy, receiving them kindly, and doing them all manner of pleasures and civilities:  which I assure you is no small matter of mirth.