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|
When a wife's in her pout,
(As she's sometimes, no doubt),
The good husband, as meek as a lamb,
First grants her her will, And the quieting draught is a dram.
Her vapors to still, 10
Poor man! And the quieting draught is a dram.
-- I wish all our quarrels might have so comfortable
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 friend
|ship, will you give me leave to propose a glass of||20|
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|
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|
|served 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|
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|
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|