Mrs. Peachum. Well, Polly; as far as one Woman can forgive another, I forgive thee.—Your Father is too fond of you, Hussy.
Polly. Then all my Sorrows are at an end.
Mrs. Peachum. A mighty likely Speech in troth, for a Wench who is just married!
[ AIR X. Thomas, I cannot, &c.]
Polly.
I, like a Ship in Storms, was tost;
Yet afraid to put in to Land:
For seiz’d in the Port the Vessel’s lost,