Down she drops quite spent with Sighing
Pair'd in Death, as pair'd in Love.
Thus, Sir, it will happen to your poor Polly.
MRS. PEACHUM. What, is the Fool in Love in earnest then? I hate thee for
being particular: Why Wench, thou art a Shame to they very Sex.
POLLY. But hear me, Mother.----If you ever lov'd-----
MRS. PEACHUM. Those cursed Play-Books she reads have been her Ruin.
One Word more, Hussy, and I shall knock your Brains out, if you have any.
PEACHUM. Keep out of the way, Polly, for fear of Mischief, and consider
what is propos'd to you.
MRS. PEACHUM. Away, Hussy. Hang your Husband, and be dutiful.
Scene 11.
MRS. PEACHUM, PEACHUM.
[Polly listning.]
MRS. PEACHUM. The Thing, Husband, must and shall be done. For the sake of
Intelligence we must take other Measures, and have him peach'd the next
Session without her Consent. If she will not know her Duty, we know ours.
PEACHUM. But really, my Dear, it grieves one's Heart to take off a great
Man. When I consider his Personal Bravery, his fine Strategem, how much
we have already got by him, and how much more we may get, methinks I can't
find it in my Heart to have a hand in his Death. I wish you could have made
Polly undertake it.
MRS. PEACHUM. But in a Case of Necessity----our own Lives are in danger.
PEACHUM. Then, indeed, we must comply with the Customs of the World, and
make Gratitude give way to Interest.
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