was no great hurry in getting chairs and coaches, | AIR.-What shall I do to shew how much I love made a tolerable hand on't. These seven handkerchiefs, mada'n. Mrs Peach. Coloured ones, I see. They are of sure sale, from our warehouse at Redriff, among the seamen. her? Virgins are like the fair flower in its lustre, Which in the garden enamels the ground, Near it the bees in play flutter and cluster, And gaudy butterflies frolic around; during, Rots, stinks, and dies, and is trod under feet. Filch. And this snuff-box. Mrs Peach. Set in gold ! a pretty encourage- | But when once plucked, 'tis no longer alluring, ment this to a young beginner! To Covent-garden 'tis sent (as yet sweet), Filch. I had a fair tug at a charming gold | There fades, and shrinks, and grows past all enwatch. Pox take the tailors for making the fobs so deep and narrow ! It stuck by the way, and I | was forced to make my escape under a coach. Really, madam, I fear I shall be cut off in the flower of my youth; so that, every now and then, since I was pumpt, I have thoughts of taking up, and going to sea. Mrs Peach. You should go to Hockley-in-theHole, and to Marybone, child, to learn valour: these are the schools that have bred so many brave men. I thought, boy, by this time, thou hadst lost fear, as well as shame. Poor lad! how little does he know as yet of the Old Bailey! For the first fact I'll ensure thee from being hanged; and going to sea, Filch, will come time enough upon a sentence of transportation. But now, since you have nothing better to do, even go to your book, and learn your catechism; for really a man makes but an ill figure in the Ordinary's paper, who cannot give a satisfactory answer to his questions. But hark you, my lad? don't tell me a lie, for you know I hate a liar; Do you know of any thing that hath past between captain Macheath and our Polly? Peach. You know, Polly, I am not against your toying and trifling with a customer in the way of business, or to get out a secret or so; but if I find out that you have played the fool, and are married, you jade you, I'll cut your throat, hussy! Now, you know my mind. For she must have both hoods and gowns, and scarfs and stays, and gloves and lace, and And when she's drest with care and cost, alltempting, fine and gay, Filch. I beg you, madam, don't ask me; for I must either tell a lie to you or to Miss Polly, for As men should serve a cucumber, she flings herI promised her I would not tell. Alrs Peach. But when the honour of our family is concerned———— Filch. I shall lead a sad life with Miss Polly, if ever she come to know that I told you. Besides, I would not willingly forfeit my own honour, by betraying any body. Mrs Peach. Yonder comes my husband and Polly. Come, Filch, you shall go with me into my own room, and tell me the whole story. I'll give thee a glass of a most delicious cordial, that I keep for my own drinking. [Exeunt. Enter PEACHUM and POLLY. Polly. I know as well as any of the fine ladies how to make the most of myself, and of my man too. A woman knows how to be mercenary, though she hath never been at court, or at an assembly: we have it in our natures, papa. If I allow captain Macheath some trifling liberties, I have this watch and other visible marks of his favour to shew for it. A girl, who cannot grant some things, and refuse what is most material, will make but a poor hand of her beauty, and soon be thrown upon the common. self away. You baggage! you hussy! you inconsiderate jade! had you been hanged it would not have vexed me, for that might have been your misfortune; but to do such a mad thing by choice! The wench is married, husband! Peach. Married ! the captain is a bold man, and will risk any thing for money : to be sure, he believes her a fortune. Do you think your mother and I should have lived comfortably so long together, if ever we had been married, baggage? Mrs Peach. I knew she was always a proud slut, and now the wench hath played the fool and married, because, forsooth, she would do like the gentry! Can you support the expence of a husband, hussy, in gaming, drinking, and whoring? have you money enough to carry on the daily quarrels of man and wife, about who shall squander most? There are not many husbands and wives who can bear the charges of plaguing one another in a handsome way. If you must be married, could you introduce nobody into our family but a highwayman? Why, thou foolish jade, thou wilt be as ill used, and as much neglected, as if thou hadst married a lord! Peach. Let not your anger, my dear, break | AIR.-O Jenny, O Jenny! where hast thou been? through the rules of decency; for the captain looks upon himself, in the military capacity, as a gentleman by his profession. Besides what he hath already, I know he is in a fair way of getting, or of dying; and both these ways, let me tell you, are most excellent chances for a wife. Tell me, hussy, are you ruined or no? Mrs Peach. With Polly's fortune, she might very well have gone off to a person of distinction: yes, that you might, you pouting slut! Peach. What is the wench dumb? speak, or I'll make you plead by squeezing out an answer from you. Are you really bound wife to him, or are you only upon liking? [Pinches her. Polly. Oh!" [Screaming. Mrs Peach. How the mother is to be pitied, who hath handsome daughters! Locks, bolts, bars, and lectures of morality, are nothing to them; they break through them all: they have as much pleasure in cheating a father and mother, as in cheating at cards. Peach. Why, Polly, I shall soon know if you are married, by Macheath's keeping from our house. AIR-Grim king of the ghosts, &c. Polly. Can love be controuled by advice? Though my heart was as frozen as ice, Mrs Peach. Then all the hopes of our family are gone for ever and ever! Peach. And Macheath may hang his father and mother-in-law, in hopes to get into their daughter's fortune. Polly. I did not marry him (as 'tis the fashion) coolly and deliberately for houour or moneybut I love him. Mrs Peach. Love him! worse and worse! I thought the girl had been better bred. Oh husband! husband! her folly makes me mad! my head swims! I'm distracted! I can't support nyself-Oh! [Faints. Peach. See, wench, to what a condition you have reduced your poor mother! A glass of cordial this instant! How the poor woman takes it to heart! [Polly goes out, and returns with it.] Ah, hussy! now this is the only comfort your mother has left. Polly. Give her another glass, sir; my mamma drinks double the quantity whenever she is out of order. This, you sec, fetches her. Mrs Peach. The girl shews such a readiness, and so much concern, that I could almost find in my heart to forgive her. O Polly! you might have toyed and kist; Mrs Peach. Not with a highwayman—you sorry slut! Peach. A word with you, wife. 'Tis no new thing for a wench to take a man without consent of parents. You know 'tis the frailty of woman, my dear. Mrs Peach. Yes, indeed, the sex is frail; but the first time a woman is frail, she should be somewhat nice methinks, for then or never is the time to make her fortune: after that, she hath nothing to do but to guard herself from being found out, and she may do what she pleases. Peach. Make yourself a little easy; I have a thought shall soon set all matters again to rights. Why so melancholy, Polly? since what is done cannot be undone, we must all endeavour to make the best of it. Mrs Peach. Well, Polly, as far as one woman can forgive another, I forgive thee. Your father is too fond of you, bussy. Polly. Then all my sorrows are at an end. Mrs Peach. A mighty likely speech, in troth, for a wench who is just married! AIR.—Thomas, I cannol, &c. Polly. I, like a ship, in storms was tost, For seized in the port the vessel's lost, The waves are laid, My duty's paid; O joy beyond expression! I ask no more; My all's in my possession. Peach. I hear customers in t'other room; go talk with them, Polly, but come again as soon as they are gone. But hark ye, child? if 'tis the gene tleman who was here yesterday about the repeating watch, say, you believe we can't get intelligence of it till to-morrow, for I lent it to Sukey Straddie to make a figure with it to-night at a tavern in Drury-lane. If t'other gentleman calls for the silver-hilted sword, you know beetle-browed Jemmy hath it on, and he doth not come from Tunbridge till Tuesday night; so that it cannot be had till then. [Exit POLLY.] Dear wife! be a little pacified; don't let your passion run away with your senses: Polly, I grant you, hath done a rash thing. Mrs Peach. If she had only an intrigue with the fellow, why the very best families have ex cused and huddled up a frailty of that sort. 'Tis marriage, husband, that makes it a blemish. Peach. But money, wife, is the true fuller's earth for reputations; there is not a spot or a stain but what it can take out. A rich rogue, now-a-days, is fit company for any gentleman; and the world, my dear, hath not such a contempt for roguery as you imagine. I tell you, wife, I can make this match turn to our advantage. Mrs Peach. I am very sensible, husband, that captain Macheath is worth money; but I am in doubt whether he hath not two or three wives already, and then, if he should die in a session or two, Polly's dower would come into dispute. Peach. That, indeed, is a point which ought to be considered. whole scheme and intention of all marriage articles. The comfortable estate of widowhood is the only hope that keeps up a wife's spirits.-——— Where is the woman, who would scruple to be a wife, if she had it in her power to be a widow whenever she pleased? If you have any views of this sort, Polly, I shall think the match not so very unreasonable. Polly. How I dread to hear your advice! yet I must beg you to explain yourself. Peach. Secure what he hath got; have him peached the next sessions; and, then, at once, you are made a rich widow. Polly. What! murder the man I love! the blood runs cold at my heart with the very thought of it! Peach. Fy, Polly! what hath murder to do in the affair? Since the thing sooner or later must happen, I dare say the captain himself would like that we should get the reward for his death sooner than a stranger. Why, Polly, the captain knows that as 'tis his employment to rob, so it is ours to take robbers; every man in his business : so that there is no malice in the case. Mrs Peach. Ay, husband, now you have nicked the matter! To have him peached is the only thing could ever make me forgive her. AIR.-Now, ponder well, ye parents dear. Polly. Oh, ponder well! be not severe; Mrs Peach. But your duty to your parents, hussy, obliges you to hang him. What would many a wife give for such an opportunity! Polly. What is a jointure? what is widowhood to me? I know my heart; I cannot survive him. AIR.-Le printemps rapelle aux armes. The turtle thus, with plaintive crying, The turtle thus, with plaintive crying, Down she drops, quite spent with sighing, Thus, sir, it will happen to your poor Polly. a highwayman's wife, like a soldier's, hath as lit-nest, then? I hate thee for being particular.— tle of his pay as his company. Peach. And had not you the common views of a gentlewoman in your marriage, Polly? Polly. I don't know what you mean, sir. Peach. Of a jointure, and of being a widow. Polly. But I love him, sir; how, then, could I have thoughts of parting with him? Peach, Parting with him! why that is the VOL. III. Why, wench, thou art a shame to thy very sex. Polly. But hear me, mother-if you ever loved Mrs Peach. Those cursed play-books she reads have been her ruin! One word more, hussy, and I shall knock your brains out, if you have of mischief, and consider of what is proposed to you. Mrs Peach. Away, hussy! Hang your husband, and be dutiful. [POLLY listening.] The thing, husband, must and shall be done. For the sake of intelligence, we must take other measures, and have him peached the next session without her consent. If she will not know her duty, we know ours. Peach. But really, my dear, it grieves one's heart to take off a great man. When I consider his personal bravery, his fine stratagem, how much we have already got by him, and how much more we may get, methinks I cannot find in my heart to have a hand in his death: I wish you could have made Polly undertake it. Mrs Peach. But in a case of necessityown lives are in danger. -our Peach. Then, indeed, we must comply with the customs of the world, and make gratitude give way to interest. He shall be taken off. Mrs Peach. I'll undertake to manage Polly. Peach. And I'll prepare matters for the Old Bailey. [Exeunt PEACHUM and MRS PEACHUM. Polly. Now, I am a wretch, indeed! Methinks I see him already in the cart, sweeter and more lovely than the nosegay in his hand! I hear the crowd extolling his resolution and intrepidity! What vollies of sighs are sent from the windows of Holborn, that so comely a youth should be brought to disgrace! I see him at the tree! the whole circle are in tears! even butchers weep! Jack Ketch himself hesitates to perform his duty, and would be glad to lose his fee, by a reprieve! What, then, will become of Polly? As yet I may inform him of their design, and aid him in his escape. It shall be so. But then he flies; absents himself, and I bar myself from his dear, Idear conversation! that, too, will distract me.If he keeps out of the way, my papa and mamma may in time relent, and we may be happy.If he stays, he is hanged, and then he is lost for ever! He intended to lie concealed in my room till the dusk of the evening. If they are abroad, I'll this instant let him out, lest some accident should prevent him. [Exit, and returns with MACHEATH. Polly. And are you as fond of me as ever, my dear? Mac. Suspect my honour, my courage; suspect any thing, but my love. May my pistols miss fire, may my mare slip her shoulder while I am pursued, if I ever forsake thee! Polly. Nay, my dear! I have no reason to doubt you; for I find in the romance you lent me, none of the great heroes were ever false in love. AIR.-Pray, fair one, be kind. Mac. My heart was so free, Till Polly my passion requited; I changed every hour, But here every flower is united. Polly. Were you sentenced to transportation, sure, my dear, you could not leave me behind you-could you? Mac. Is there any power, any force, that could tear me from thee? You might sooner tear a pension out of the hands of a courtier, a fee from a lawyer, a pretty woman from a lookingglass, or any woman from quadrille-But to tear me from thee, is impossible! AIR.-Over the hills and far away. Mac. Were I laid on Greenland's coast, Soon as the burning day was closed, When on my charmer's breast reposed. Polly. Yes, I would go with thee. But, oh! how shall I speak it? I must be torn from thee! We must part! Mac. How! part! Polly. We must, we must. My papa and mamma are set against thy life: they now, even now, are in search after thee: they are preparing evidence against thee: thy life depends up on a moment. AIR.-Gin thou wert my ain thing. Polly. O what pain it is to part! But lest death my love should thwart, One kiss, and then-one kiss-Begone- Mac. My hand, my heart, my dear, are so riveted to thine, that I cannot loose my hold. Polly. But my papa may intercept thee, and then I should lose the very glimmering of hope. A few weeks, perhaps, may reconcile us all.— Shall thy Polly hear from thee? Mac. Must I, then, go? Polly. And will not absence change your love? Mac. If you doubt it, let me stay-and be hanged. Polly. O, how I fear! how I tremble! Go SCENE I.-A tavern near Newgate. but when safety will give you leave, you will be sure to see me again! for, till then, Polly is wretched. AIR. O the broom, &c. [Parting, and looking back at each other with fondness, he at one door, she at the other. Mac. The miser thus a shilling sees, ACT II. JEMMY TWITCHER, CROOK-FINGER'D JACK, WAT DREARY, ROBIN OF BAGSHOT, NIMMING NED, HARRY PADDINGTON, MAT OF THE MINT, BEN BUDGE, and the rest of the gang, at the table, with wine, brandy, and tobacco. Ben. BUT, prithee, Mat, what is become of thy brother Tom? I have not seen him since my return from transportation. Mat. Poor brother Tom had an accident this time twelvemonth, and so clever made a fellow he was, that I could not save him from those flaving rascals the surgeons, and now, poor man, he is among the otamys' at Surgeons'-hall. Ben. So, it seems his time was come. Jem. But the present time is ours, and nobody alive hath more. Why are the laws levelled at us? Are we more dishonest than the rest of manLind? What we win, gentlemen, is our own, by the law of arms, and the right of conquest. Crook. Where shall we find such another set of practical philosophers, who, to a man, are above the fear of death? Wat. Sound men and true! Rob. Of tried courage, and indefatigable industry! Ned. Who is there, here, that would not die for his friend? Har. Who is there, here, that would betray him - for his interest? Mat. Shew me a gang of courtiers that can say as much. Ben. We are for a just partition of the world; for every man hath a right to enjoy life. Mat. We retrench the superfluities of mankind. The world is avaricious, and I hate avarice. A covetous fellow, like a jackdaw, steals what he was never made to enjoy, for the sake |