Which hath Guineas intrinsical in’t,
Whose Worth is never known before
It is try’d and imprest in the Mint.
A Wife’s like a Guinea in Gold,
Stampt with the Name of her Spouse;
Now here, now there; is bought, or is sold;
And is current in every House.
Enter Filch.
Mrs. Peachum. Come hither, Filch. I am as fond of this Child, as though my Mind misgave me he were my own. He hath as fine a Hand at picking a Pocket as a Woman, and is as nimble-finger’d as a Juggler. If an unlucky Session does not cut the Rope of thy Life, I pronounce, Boy, thou wilt be a great Man in History. Where was your Post last Night, my Boy?
Filch. I ply’d at the Opera, Madam; and considering ’twas neither dark nor rainy, so that there was no great Hurry in getting Chairs and Coaches, made a