Trapes.
PEACHUM. Dear Mrs. Dye, your Servant--One may know by your Kiss,
that your Ginn is excellent.
MRS. TRAPES. I was always very curious in my Liquors.
LOCKIT. There is no perfum'd Breath like it--I have been long
acquainted with the Flavour of those Lips--Han't I, Mrs. Dye.
MRS. TRAPES. Fill it up--I take as large Draughts of Liquor, as I
did of Love.--I hate a Flincher in either.
AIR XLV. A Shepherd kept Sheep, &c.
In the Days of my Youth I could bill like a Dove, fa, la, la, &c.
Like a Sparrow at all times was ready for Love, fa, la, la, &c.
The Life of all Mortals in Kissing should pass,
Lip to Lip while we're young--then the Lip to the Glass, fa, la, &c.
But now, Mr. Peachum, to our Business.--If you have Blacks of any
kind, brought in of late; Mantoes--Velvet Scarfs--Petticoats--Let it
be what it will--I am your Chap--for all my Ladies are very fond of
Mourning.
PEACHUM. Why, look ye, Mrs. Dye--you deal so hard with us, that we
can afford to give the Gentlemen, who venture their Lives for the
Goods, little or nothing.
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