When a Wife's in her Pout, (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? _Polly._ Strong-Waters are apt to give me the Head-ache-- I hope, Madam, you will excuse me. _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. Both of us indeed have been too fond. AIR XLVIII. O _Bessy Bell_. [Music] _Polly._ A Curse attend that Woman's Love, Who always would be pleasing. _Lucy._ The Pertness of the billing Dove, Like Tickling, is but teazing. _Polly._ What then in Love can Woman do: _Lucy._ If we grow fond they shun us. _Polly._ And when we fly them, they pursue: _Lucy._ But leave us when they've won us. _Lucy._ Love is so very whimsical in both Sexes, that it is impossible to be lasting. --But my Heart is particular, and contradicts my own Observation. _Polly._ But really, Mistress _Lucy_, by his last Behaviour, I think I ought to envy you. --When I was forc'd from him, he did not shew the least Tenderness. --But perhaps, he hath a Heart not capable of it. AIR XLIX. Would Fate to me _Belinda_ give. [Music] Among the Men, Coquettes we find, Who court by turns all Woman-kind; And we grant all their Hearts desir'd, When they are flatter'd, and admir'd. The Coquettes of both Sexes are Self-lovers, and that is a Love no other whatever can dispossess. I hear, my dear _Lucy_, our Husband is one of those. _Lucy._ Away with these melancholy Reflections,-- indeed, my dear _Polly_, we are both of us a Cup too low-- Let me prevail upon you to accept of my Offer.