'Tis most certain,

By their flirting,

Women oft have envy shewn :
Pleased to ruin
Others' wooing,

Never happy in their own! Decency, madam, methinks, might teach you to behave yourself with some reserve with the husband, while his wife is present.

Mac. But seriously, Polly, this is carrying the joke a little too far.

Lucy. If you are determined, madam, to raise a disturbance in the prison, I shall be obliged to send for the turnkey to shew you the door. I am sorry, madam, you force me to be so ill-bred. Polly. Give me leave to tell you, madam, these forward airs don't become you in the least, madam; and my duty, madam, obliges me to stay with my husband, madam.

AIR.-Good-morrow, gossip Joan.
Lucy. Why, how now, Madam Flirt?
If you thus must chatter,
And are for flinging dirt,
Let's try who best can spatter,
Madam Flirt!

Polly. Why, how now, saucy jade!
Sure the wench is tipsy!

How can you see me made
The scoff of such a gipsy?
Saucy jade!

Enter PEACHUM.

[To him. [To her.

Peach. Where's my wench? Ah, hussy, hussy? Come you home, you slut? and, when your fellow is hanged, hang yourself, to make your family some amends.

Polly. Dear, dear father! do not tear me from him. I must speak; I have more to say to him. Oh, twist thy fetters about me, that he may not haul me from thee!

Peach. Sure all women are alike! if ever they commit one folly, they are sure to commit another, by exposing themselves.-Away! not a word more!-You are my prisoner now, hussy! AIR.-Irish howl.

Polly. No power on earth can e'er divide The knot, that sacred love hath tied! When parents draw against our mind, The true-love's knot they faster bind. Oh, oh ray, oh Amborah-Oh, oh, &c. [Holding MACHEATH, PEACHUM pulling her.-Exeunt PEACHUM and POLLY.

SCENE I.-Newgate. Enter LOCKIT and Lucy.

Mac. I am naturally compassionate, wife, so that I could not use the wench as she deserved, which made you at first suspect there was something in what she said.

Lucy. Indeed, my dear! I was strangely puzzled.

Mac. If that had been the case, her father would never have brought me into this circumstance-No, Lucy, I had rather die than be false to thee.

Lucy. How happy am I, if you say this from your heart! for I love thee so, that I could sooner bear to see thee hanged, than in the arms of another.

Mac. But couldst thou bear to see me hang

ed?

Lucy. Oh, Macheath! I can never live to see that day.

Mac. You see, Lucy, in the account of love, you are in my debt; and you must now be convinced, that I rather choose to die, than be another's. Make me, if possible, love thee more, and let me owe my life to thee. If you refuse to assist me, Peachum and your father will immediately put me beyond all means of escape. Lucy. My father, I know, hath been drinking hard with the prisoners; and, I fancy, he is now taking his nap in his own room. If I can procure the keys, shall I go off with thee, my dear?

Mac. If we are together, 'twill be impossible to lie concealed. As soon as the search begins to be a little cool, I will send to thee-till then, my heart is thy prisoner.

Lucy. 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.

Mac. A moment of time may make us unhappy for ever.

AIR.-The lass of Patie's mill.

Lucy. I, like the for, shall grieve, Whose mate hath left her side, Whom hounds from morn to eve, Chase o'er the country wide. Where can my lover hide, Where cheat the wary pack? If love be not his guide, He never will come back.

[Excunt.

Lucy. Sir, here hath been Peachum and his daughter Polly; and, to be sure, they know the ways of Newgate as well as if they had been born and bred in the place all their lives. Why must all your suspicion light upon me?

Lock. Lucy, Lucy! I will have none of these shuffling answers.

C

Lucy. Well, then-If I know any thing of wish I may be burnt!

him, Lock. Keep your temper, Lucy, or I shall pronounce you guilty.

Lucy. Keep your's, sir- -I do wish I may be burnt, I do-And what can I say more to convince you?

Lock. Did he tip handsomely?- -how much did he come down with? Come, hussy, don't cheat your father, and I shall not be angry with you-Perhaps you have made a better bargain with him, than I could have done-How much, my good girl?

Lucy. You know, sir, I am fond of him, and would have given money to have kept him with

me.

Lock. Ah, Lucy! thy education might have put thee more upon thy guard; for a girl, in the bar of an alehouse, is always besieged.

Lucy. If you can forgive me, sir, I will make a fair confession; for, to be sure, he hath been

a most barbarous villain to me.

Lock. and so you have let him escape, hussy! Have you?"

Lucy. When a woman loves, a kind look, a tender word, can persuade her to any thing -and I could ask no other bribe.-Notwithstanding all he swore, I am now fully convinced that Polly Peachum is actually his wife.Did I let him escape (fool that I was!) to go to her?-Polly will wheedle herself into his money, and then Peachum will hang him, and cheat us both.

Lock. So I am to be ruined, because, forsooth, you must be in love?-A very pretty excuse!

Of that jilt, that inveigling harlot !
This, this my resentment alarms.

Lock. And so, after all this mischief, I must stay here to be entertained with your caterwauling, Mistress Puss!- -Out of my sight, wanton strumpet! you shall fast and mortify yourself into reason, with now and then a little handsome discipline to bring you to your senses.- -Go! [Exit Lucy.] Peachum then intends to outwit me in this affair; but I'll be even with him.- -The dog is leaky in his |

Enter Lucy.

[Exit.

The good husband, as meek as a lumb,
Her vapours to still

First grants her her will.

And the quieting draught is a dram; Poor man! and the quieting draught is a dram. -I wish all our quarrels might have so comfortable a reconciliation.

Polly. I have no excuse for my own be

pump some secrets out of me-I'll be upon my guard, and won't taste a drop of her liquor, I'm resolved.

Enter Lucy, with strong waters. Lucy. Come, Miss Polly.

Polly. Indeed, child, you have given yourself trouble to no purpose, you must, my dear, ex

cuse me.

count.

fuse me.

of strong I vow,

Polly. Strong waters are apt to give me the head-ache. I hope, madam, you will excuse me. Lucy. Not the greatest lady in the land could have better in her closet for her own private drinking-You seem mighty low in spirits, my dear!

my

Polly. I am sorry, madam, health will not allow me to accept of your offer-I should not have left you in the rude manner I did, when we met last, madam, had not my papa hauled me away so unexpectedly-I was, indeed, somewhat provoked, and perhaps might use some expressions that were disrespectful-—but really, madam, the captain treated me with so much contempt and cruelty, that I deserved your pity rather than your resentment.

Lucy. But since his escape, no doubt all matters are made up again—Ah, Polly! Polly! 'tis I am the unhappy wife, and he loves you, as if you were only his mistress.

Polly. Sure, madam, you cannot think me so happy as to be the object of your jealousy?—A man is always afraid of a woman, who loves him too well-so that I must expect to be neglected and avoided.

Lucy. Then our cases, my dear Polly, are exactly alike: both of us, indeed, have been too fond.-Indeed, my dear Polly, we are both of us a cup too low: let me prevail upon you to accept of my offer.

AIR.-Come, sweet lass.

Come, sweet lass!

Let's banish sorrow
Till to-morrow;
Come, sweet lass!

Let's take a chirping glass.
Wine can clear

The vapours of despair,
And make us light as air;
Then drink, and banish care.

I can't bear, child, to see you in such low spirits and I must persuade you to what I know will do you good- -I shall now soon be even with the hypocritical strumpet. [Aside.] [Erit. Polly. All this wheedling of Lucy can't be for nothing at this time too, when I know she hates me!The dissembling of a woman is always the forerunner of mischief-By pouring strong waters down my throat, she thinks to

Polly. I protest, Madam, it goes against me -Macheath again in custody!-now every glimmering of happiness is lost!

[Drops the glass of liquor on the ground. Enter LockIT, MACHEATH, and PEACHUM. Lock. Set your heart at rest, captain-You have neither the chance of love or money for another escape, for you are ordered to be called down upon your trial immediately.

Peach. Away, hussies! this is not a time for a man to be hampered with his wives—you see the gentleman is in chains already.

me!

Lucy. O husband, husband! my heart longed to see thee, but to see thee thus, distracts Polly. Will not my dear husband look upon his Polly? Why hadst thou not flown to me for protection? with me thou hadst been safe.

AIR,-The last time I came o'er the moor.
Polly. Hither, dear husband! turn your eyes.
Lucy. Bestow one glance to cheer me.
Polly. Think with that look thy Polly dies.
Lucy. O shun me not, but hear me.
Polly. 'Tis Polly sues.
Lucy. 'Tis Lucy speaks.

Polly. Is thus true love requited?
Lucy. My heart is bursting.
Polly. Mine too breaks.
Lucy. Must I,

Polly. Must I be slighted?

Mac. What would you have me say, ladies? -You see this affair will soon be at an end, without my disobliging either of you.

Peach. But the settling this point, captain, might prevent a law-suit between your two widows.

AIR.-Tom Tinker's my true love, &c. Mac. Which way shall I turn me ?-how can 1 decide?

Wives, the day of our death, are as fond as a

bride.

him insensible to mine- -a father, sure, will be more compassionate- -Dear, dear sir! sink the material evidence, and bring him off at his trial-Polly, upon her knees, begs it of you.

AIR. I am a poor shepherd undone.

When my hero in court appears,
And stands arraigned for his life,
Then think of your Polly's tears,
For, ah! poor Polly's his wife.
Like the sailor he holds up his hand,
Distrest on the dashing wave;
To die a dry death at land
Is as bad as a wat❜ry grave;
And alas, poor Polly!
Alack, and well-a-day!
Before I was in love,

Oh! ev'ry month was May.

Peach. Set your heart at rest, Polly-your husband is to die to-day- -therefore, if you are not already provided, 'tis high time to look about for another. There's comfort for you, you slut.

Lock. We are ready, sir, to conduct you to the Old Bailey.

AIR.-Bonny Dundee.

AIR. Did you ever hear of a gallant sailor ?

But can I leave my pretty hussies,
Without one tear or tender sigh?

AIR.-Why are mine eyes still flowing?
Their eyes, their lips, their busses,
Recal my love-Ah! must I die!

AIR.-Green Sleeves.

Since laws were made for every degree,

met,

I wonder we ha'n't better company

Upon Tyburn tree!

But gold from law can take out the sting,
Twould thin the land such numbers to string
And if rich men like us were to swing,
Upon Tyburn tree!

Enter BEN BUDGE and MAT of the MINT.

Mac. For my having broken prison, you see, gentlemen, I am ordered for immediate execution-The sheriff's officers, I believe, are now at the door That Jemmy Twitcher should peach me, I own surprised me—'Tis a plain proof, that the world is all alike, and that even our gang can no more trust one another than other people; therefore, I beg you, gentlemen, look well to yourselves, for, in all probability, you may live some months longer.

Mat. We are heartily sorry, captain, for your misfortunes-but 'tis what we must all

come to.

Mac. Peachum and Lockit, you know, are infamous scoundrels: their lives are as much in your power, as yours are in theirs-Remember your dying friend- 'tis my last request Bring those villains to the gallows before you, and I am satisfied. Mat. We'll do't.