Trapes. Though he thinks I have forgot him, nobody knows him better. I have taken a great deal of the Captain’s money in my time at second-hand, for he always loved to have his ladies well dressed.
Peach. Mr. Lockit and I have a little business with the Captain. You understand me? And we will satisfy you for Mrs. Coaxer’s debt.
Lock. Depend upon it, we will deal like men of honour.
Trapes. I don’t inquire after your affairs, so whatever happens, I wash my hands on ’t. It hath always been my maxim that one friend should assist another. But, if you please, I’ll take one of the scarves home with me; ’tis always good to have something in hand.
[Exeunt.
Enter Lucy
Lucy. Jealousy, rage, love, and fear are at once tearing me to pieces. How I am weather-beaten and shattered with distresses!
Air.—One evening having lost my way
Now high, now low, with each billow borne,
With her rudder broke, and her anchor lost,
Deserted and all forlorn.
While thus I lie rolling and tossing all night,
That Polly lies sporting on seas of delight!
Revenge, revenge, revenge
Shall appease my restless sprite.
I have the ratsbane ready. I run no risk, for I can lay her death upon the gin, and so many die of that naturally that I shall never be called in question. But say I were to be hanged, I never could be hanged for anything that would give me greater comfort than the poisoning that slut.
Enter Filch
Filch. Madam, here’s our Miss Polly come to wait upon you.
Lucy. Show her in.
Enter Polly
Lucy. Dear madam, your servant. I hope you will pardon my passion, when I was so happy to see you last. I was so over-run with the spleen that I was perfectly out of myself; and really when one hath the spleen, everything is to be excused by a friend.
Air.—Now, Roger, I’ll tell thee, because thou’rt my son
(As she’s sometimes, no doubt)
The good husband, as meek as a lamb,
Her vapours to still
First grants her her will,
And the quieting draught is a dram.
Poor man! And the quieting draught is a dram.
I wish all our quarrels might have so comfortable a reconciliation.
Polly. I have no excuse for my own behaviour, madam, but my misfortunes, and really, madam, I suffer too upon your account.
Lucy. But, Miss Polly, in the way of friendship, will you give me leave to propose a glass of cordial to you?
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