I seize you, Sir, as my Prisoner. Tarts and highwaymen, cheap gin, betrayal, bigamy Come then, my dear Husband——owe thy life to me——and though you love me not——be grateful,——But that Polly runs in my Head strangely. Tips For Editing.
With Polly's Fortune, she might very well have gone off to a Person of Distinction. But before Company 'tis ill bred.