LUCY. Dear madam, your servant. I hope you will pardon my passion, when I was so happy to see you last. I was so overrun with the spleen,1 that I was perfectly out of myself. And really, when one hath the spleen everything is to be excused by a 5 friend.
When a wife's in her pout,
(As she's sometimes, no doubt),
The good husband, as meek as a lamb,
Her vapors to still, 10 First grants her her will, And the quieting draught is a dram.
Poor man! And the quieting draught is a dram.
-- I wish all our quarrels might have so comfortable a reconciliation. 15
POLLY. I have no excuse for my own behavior,
madam, but my misfortunes. And really, madam,
I suffer too upon your account.
LUCY. But, Miss Polly -- in the way of friendship, will you give me leave to propose a glass of 20 cordial to you?
POLLY. Strong waters are apt to give me the headache -- I hope, madam, you will excuse me.
LUCY. Not the greatest lady in the land could have better in her closet, for her own private drinking. 25 You seem mighty low in spirits, my dear.
POLLY. I am sorry, madam, my health will not
allow me to accept of your offer. I should not have
left you in the rude manner I did when we met last,
madam, had not my papa hauled me away so un 30 expectedly. I was indeed somewhat provoked, and perhaps might use some expressions that were disrespectful. But really, madam, the captain treated me with so much contempt and cruelty that I deserved your pity, rather than your resentment. 35
LUCY. But since his escape no doubt all matters are made up again. Ah Polly! Polly! 'tis I am the unhappy wife, and he loves you as if you were only his mistress.
POLLY. Sure, madam, you cannot think me so 40 happy as to be the object of your jealousy. A man is always afraid of a woman who loves him too well -- so that I must expect to be neglected and avoided.
LUCY. Then our cases, my dear Polly, are exactly alike. Both of us, indeed, have been too fond. 45
POLLY. A curse attends that woman's love,
Who always would be pleasing.
LUCY. The pertness of the billing dove,
Like tickling, is but teasing.
POLLY. What then in love can woman do? 50
LUCY. If we grow fond they shun us.
POLLY. And when we fly them, they pursue.
LUCY. But leave us when they've won us.
LUCY. Love is so very whimsical in both sexes,
that it is impossible to be lasting. But my heart 55 is particular,2 and contradicts my own observation.
POLLY. But really, Mistress Lucy, by his last behavior, I think I ought to envy you. When I was forced from him, he did not show the least tenderness. But perhaps he hath a heart not capable of it. 60____________________