LUCY. Not the greatest Lady in the Land could have better in her
Closet, for her own private drinking.--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 haul'd me away so unexpectedly--I
was indeed somewhat provok'd, and perhaps might use some Expressions
that were disrespectful.--But really, Madam, the Captain treated me
with so much Contempt and Cruelty, that I deserv'd your Pity, rather
than your Resentment.
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 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.
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