The Life and Death of Mr. Badman

Wise. Did! he did many things, which I am sure he never thought to have done, and which, to be sure, was not looked for of his wife and children. In this fit of sickness,¹ his Thoughts were quite altered about his wife; I say his Thoughts, so far as could be judged by his words and carriages to her. For now she was his good wife, his godly wife, his honest wife, his duck, and dear, and all. Now he told her, that she had the best of it, she having a good Life to stand by her, while his debaucheries and ungodly Life did always stare him in the face. Now he told her, the counsel that she often gave him, was good; though he was so bad as not to take it. Now he would hear her talk to him,² and he would lie sighing by her while she so did. Now he would bid her pray for him, that he might be delivered from Hell. He would also now consent, that some of her good Ministers might ⟨p. 274⟩come to him to comfort him; and he would seem to show them kindness when they came, for he would treat them kindly with words, and hearken diligently to what they said, only he did not care that they should talk much of his ill spent life, because his conscience was clogged with that already; he cared not now to see his old companions, the thoughts of them was a torment to him: and now he would speak kindly to that child of his that took after its mothers steps, though he could not at all abide it before. He also desired the prayers of good people, that God of his mercy would spare him a little longer, promising that if God would but let him recover this once, what a new, what a penitent man he would be toward God, and what a loving husband he would be to his wife: what liberty he would give her, yea how he would go with her himself to hear her Ministers, and how they should go hand in hand in the way to heaven together.

Wise. Did! he did many things, which I am sure he never thought to have done, and which, to be sure, was not looked for of his wife and children. In this fit of sickness,¹ his Thoughts were quite altered about his wife; I say his Thoughts, so far as could be judged by his words and carriages to her. For now she was his good wife, his godly wife, his honest wife, his duck, and dear, and all. Now he told her, that she had the best of it, she having a good Life to stand by her, while his debaucheries and ungodly Life did always stare him in the face. Now he told her, the counsel that she often gave him, was good; though he was so bad as not to take it. Now he would hear her talk to him,