Rosy. He says he’ll undertake to cure you for three thousand pounds. Mrs. Bri. Three thousand pounds! three thousand halters! — No, lovee, you shall … - Richard Brinsley Sheridan

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Rosy. He says he’ll undertake to cure you for three thousand pounds. Mrs. Bri. Three thousand pounds! three thousand halters! — No, lovee, you shall never submit to such impositions; die at once, and be a customer to none of them. Just. I won’t die, Bridget — I don’t like death.