A14992:78
A care-cloth
A care-cloth: or a treatise of the cumbers and troubles of marriage intended to advise them that may, to shun them; that may not, well and patiently to bear them. By William Whately, preacher of the word of God in Banbury, in Oxfordshire.A care-cloth: or a treatise of the cumbers and troubles of marriage intended to aduise them that may, to shun them; that may not, well and patiently to beare them. By William Whately, preacher of the word of God in Banbury, in Oxfordshire.
London: printed by Felix Kyngston for Thomas Man, 1624
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
The husband also should think thus: How if my wife become infirm and feeble, lame, impotent, powerless, able neither to got, nor keep, to labour, nor over-fee, nor to do any thing, but groan, and sigh, and hold her sides, and keep her bed, to mine excessive charge and grief, without being any way able to be an help and comfort unto me? With what patience should I hear her groans? With what quietness should I look upon her pangs, and even be sick in her sickness? But in conclusion, death will approach, and divorce the husband and wife each from other, of which, either should think before it come to either, yea, before themselves come together: How can I tell (may the wife say,) but that if I be married to this husband, he may leave me the mother of some children, and now great with another, and (sending his soul to heaven) give me alone his cold corpse to put into the earth? How shall I do to see the breath go out of that beloved body? How shall I endure to see those eyes closed, and all those ⟨p. 50⟩limbs and joints now under the arrest of death? How should I bear the desolate name of a widow? of one that had an husband? where the cross is aggravated by the goodness of him, whom I have lost?
The husband also should thinke thus: How if my wife become infirme and feeble, lame, impotent, powerlesse, able neither to got, nor keepe, to labour, nor ouer-fee, nor to doe any thing, but groane, and sigh, and hold her sides, and keepe her bed, to mine excessiue charge and griefe, without being any way able to be an help and comfort vnto mee? With what patience should I heare her groanes? With what quietnesse should I looke vpon her pangs, and euen be sicke in her sicknesse? But in conclusion, death wil approach, and diuorce the husband and wife each from other, of which, either should thinke before it come to either, yea, before themselues come together: How can I tell (may the wife say,) but that if I be married to this husband, hee may leaue me the mother of some children, and nwo great with another, and (sending his soule to heauen) giue me alone his cold corpse to put into the earth? How shall I doe to see the breath goe out of that beloued body? How shall I endure to see those eyes clozed, and all those ⟨p. 50⟩lims and ioynts now vnder the arrest of death? How should I beare the desolate name of a widdow? of one that had an husband? where the crosse is aggrauated by the goodnesse of him, whom I haue lost?