To
convince you of my Sincerity, if we can find the Ordinary, I shall have no
Scruples of making you my Wife; and I know the Consequences of having two at
a time.
LUCY. That you are only to be hang'd, and so get rid of them both.
MACHEATH. I am ready, my dear Lucy, to give you Satisfaction----If you
think there is any in Marriage.----What can a Man of Honour say more?
LUCY. So then, it seems, you are not married to Miss Polly.
MACHEATH. You know, Lucy, the Girl is prodigiously conceited. No Man can
say a civil thing to her but (like other fine Ladies) her Vanity makes her
think he's her own for ever and ever.
Air. XXIX.--The Sun had loos'd his weary Teams &c.
The first time at the Looking-glass
The Mother sets her Daughter,
The Image strikes the smiling Lass
With self-love ever after,
Each time she looks, she, fonder grown,
Thinks ev'ry Charm grows stronger.
But alas, vain Maid, all eyes but your own
Can see you are not younger.
When Women consider their own Beauties, they are all alike unreasonable in
their Demands; for they expect their Lovers should like them as long as they
like themselves.
LUCY. Yonder is my Father----perhaps this way we may light upon the
Ordinary, who shall try if you will be as good as your Word.----For I long
to be made an honest Woman.
Scene 10.
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