⟨Tho. Sawyer of Magd. Coll was the author of Antigamus following▪⟩
⟨See A [...] [...]t Fa [...] Oxon Vol. 2. P. 884.⟩
ANTIGAMUS OR A Satyr against MARRIAGE.
1.
HEnce, hence ye Matrymonial tooles,
Ye thin-leg'd, pale-fac'd, meagre traine,
Ye Proselites to empty rules,
Form'd by some nice Adulterers brain;
Hence chilly thread-bare Stoick Chastity
Lust pinch'd and starv'd by rude Morality,
And welcome well-fed sprightly Leachery.
Methinks I feel the noble god-like guest,
Briskly advancing to command my breast.
My thoughts, Seraglio-like are richly stor'd
With the best Girls the Vniverse afford:
My wishes burn my imaginations glow,
And my free choice distracts me what to do
But Pilot-like, I will attack each Whore
'Till Natures Helm shall steer me to some shore.
2.
Marriage that religious Cheat,
By which man kind their freedome loose,
Shall ne're my use of sense defear,
Or in its specious Hamprings noose.
Marriage that state of slavish drudgery
The clog that cramps and galls our Liberty,
The blind effect of doting foolery.
[Page 2] Let Court-born Brats, like Frogs, compleat
Their births, scarce born Engender in the heat;
Let 'Squires their
Bridgets to their beds prefer,
Chous'd by the cuuning well fee'd Hous-keeper;
I'le propagate my universal Love
While the quick-motion'd springs of youth can move
When age steals on, and life becomes a curse,
Perhaps I'le then vouchsafe to keep a Nurse.
3
Tell me some humble Hen-peck'd Citt
The numerous wracks attend thy life;
What crowds of Ills together meer,
And Center in a snarlish Wife.
No zealous Drab mad or prophetick grown
Or pale Fanatick bawling down the Crown
Storms half so loud or with so shrill a tone.
How sneaking must the lesson'd School-boy stand
With heavy down-cast-eye, and Cap in hand,
And if her chattering Clack one Note she rears,
He dreads the present forfeiture of his ears:
Dare he reply, Stools, Chairs, and all she'l hurle
Or worry with her nails the saucy Churle.
The Victrix-spouse scorns ever to comply,
Unless with ends to serve her Leachery.
4
Brag on thou fondling fawning Sot
Who art by modest out-sides gull'd
Thou blinded credulous Ideot,
In meer conceits of virtue lul'd.
Let but thy darling Nest-bird take the air
From place to place she'l flutter first with care,
Then try her wings and prove a wonderer.
In harmless wanton sports she'l freely joyn,
And with her fellow Innocents combine
Till we the well-flown Vulture hungry rome
And seize the harmless Captives far from home.
Grasp'd in our Talons they become the prey
And at their deaths perceive th've gone astray:
Thus we brave souls to Luxury are fed
With the fat Quarry of the Marriage-bed.
5.
I challenge all tame wedlock Drones
Who the dull badge of Husband wear
T' alledge their consolations
Secure from jealousies and fear,
How could the mighty
Caesars lustre shine,
Though crowding Laurels round his temples twine
Ecclyps'd by hot-tail'd bawdy
Messaline?
How wisely did the wandring
Trojan 'Squire
Leave his
Cerusa scorching in
Troy's fire!
The
Carthage Dames well lik'd his manly face,
He promis'd much because of Bastard-race
Maugre Tar-breeches, Maugre sun-burnt meene
He boldly ventur'd and debauch'd a Queen.
Thus piously endew'd the Hero fled,
Where fates ordain'd and choice of Whoreing led,
6.
Curse on that Graecian * Spinning Spouse,
Who when Brisk Lovers dayly came
[Page 4] Was making Cheese, or Sweeping house,
And would not entertain their flame
This Idle, Old, Cold, Drousie, Rusty, Mome.
Was glad to see her totter'd* Wisdom come;
Kis'd wrinckled Dear, and bid him welcome home.
He underwent the shocks of Fire and Steele,
While Chast Chickney sate purring at the Wheele.
But Oh! th' Embraces when these Lovers met,
The Furrows of their Cheeks with slobbering wet.
One would have thought th' Hero's long delay
Had made him pamper'd for Venereal play;
But he must first the Trojan wars repeat,
His Love with too long fasting could not eat.
7
Arm, arm, my Lads to
Ʋenus Wars,
My faithful, dauntless Volunteers,
Courageously withstand all jarrs
And ransack Cuckold Mutineers.
Thus the old
Romans their first Conquest made,
The
Sabine Virgins they at first betray'd
This flush'd their Valour, then the world obey'd.
Cannot your blood
Jone's great Example stir,
Jove the most Fam'd and Grand Adulterer?
He, who in Incest first his power begun,
Gave Earthly Empires to each Bastard Son.
We are his Race, our Actions speak us so,
Nor need we doubt reward if on we go.
Sound Loves Trumpet, fill all the
Cyprian plain,
Wee'l Fight, and Wheel, and Rally up again.
8
The Battle's done, and Ours the day,
And though the short dispute was hot,
The Captives will our Labour pay,
The Pretty
Amozons we've got.
This Merchants wife brings store of Silks & Wine,
That Gold-smith Consort's fraught with bags of Coyn.
All, all their Husbands Treasuries purloyn.
These are the fields we Lusty Champions fight,
Our Labours please us, and our Pains delight;
While easie Cowards lazily content
Themselves with one a Nuptial Curse hath sent.
Let the head-aching mortals grunt and grone,
And bind their swelling Fore-heads making moane;
Let Snivelling
Mopsa run at Nose and cry,
Oh Dear! my husband I'm afraid he'l dye.
9.
May I (yee Gods) who Patrons are
To Lust and sweet Debauchery,
Brow-Antlers on my Frontlets waer,
Stamp'd with the mark of Cuckoldry.
If I t' Ill-natur'd peevishness submit,
And Curb my reason in a Marriage bit,
May Boyes deriding at me Turnips hit;
May I set Smoaking in a Country Cot;
Yoak'd with my Heifer skimming of a Pot;
May I like Starveling
Prigg to Market trot
On sober Ball, sell Eggs to get a Groat;
May the Black, Rude, Companion of my bed
Cry Hastings ripe, or Cheef cakes on her head;
[Page 6] May Smiths and Tinkers, either out of spo.
Or Spight, my home-spun Doxy court.
10.
Strongly I feel my rageing blood
Beat and attempt to overflow;
The Channels scarce contain the Flood,
And Natures Springs Luxuriant grow.
As when
Nile swells with fat impetuous Tides,
Richly insulting o're the Banks he rides,
O're beauteous flowers & Plants he gently glides.
Thus I though furious and tempestuous made,
VVill gently force, and calmly Nymphs invade.
I am resolv'd, and nothing hinders me,
No Shanker pox, or running Ghonorrhy,
Ile on with all my lusty Myrmidons,
Straight-limb'd, well-built, with firmly marrow'd bones;
Let Deform'd wretches with all Ill humour cram'd,
Go Marry if they can, and so be damn'd.
FINIS.