Lucy. Art thou, then, married to another? Hast thou two wives, monster? not twenty guineas, think you, move him?—Of | from a wife), to a man who hath not above all the arguments, in the way of business, the seven or eight days to live. perquisite is the most prevailing.-Your father's perquisites, for the escape of prisoners, must amount to a considerable sum in the year. Money, well timed, and properly applied, will do any thing. Polly. Where is my dear husband?-Was a rope ever intended for this neck! Oh, let me throw my arms about it, and throttle thee with love! Why dost thou turn away from me? 'Tis thy Polly-'tis thy wife! Mac. Was ever such an unfortunate rascal as I am! Lucy. Was there ever such another villain! Polly. Oh, Macheath! was it for this we parted? Taken! imprisoned! tried! hanged! Cruel reflection! I'll stay with thee till deathno force shall tear thy dear wife from thee now. What means my love?-not one kind word! not one kind look! Think what thy Polly suffers to see thee in this condition! Mac. I must disown her [Aside.] The wench is distracted! Lucy. Am I then bilked of my virtue? Can I have no reparation? Sure men were born to lie, and women to believe them; Oh, villain, villain! Polly. Am I not thy wife?-Thy neglect of me, thy aversion to me, too severely proves it.-Look on me-Tell me, am I not thy wife? Lucy. Perfidious wretch! Polly. Barbarous husband! Lucy. Hadst thou been hanged five months ago, I had been happy! Polly. And I, too. If you had been kind to me till death, it would not have vexed me-and that's no very unreasonable request (though Mac. If womens' tongues can cease for an answer-hear me. Lucy. I won't.-Flesh and blood cannot bear my usage. Polly. Shall I not claim my own?—Justice bids me speak? AIR.-Have you heard of a frolicsome ditty? Polly. Sure, my dear! there ought to be some preference shewn to a wife; at least she may claim the appearance of it. He must be distracted with his misfortunes, or he could not use me thus. Lucy. Oh, villain, villain! thou hast deceived me! I could even inform against thee with pleasure. Not a prude wishes more heartily to have facts against her intimate acquaintance, than I now wish to have facts against thee. I would have her satisfaction, and they should all out. AIR.-Irish trot. Polly. I'm bubbled! Polly. My distresses are doubled! These fingers, with pleasure, could fasten the noose, Polly. I'm bubbled, &c. Mac. Be pacified, my dear Lucy! this is all a fetch of Polly's, to make me desperate with you in case I get off. If I am hanged, she would fain have the credit of being thought my widow. Really, Polly, this is no time for a dispute of this sort; for whenever you are talking of marriage, I am thinking of hanging. Polly. And hast thou the heart to persist in disowning me? Mac. And hast thou the heart to persist in persuading me that I am married? Why, Polly, dost thou seek to aggravate my misfortunes? Lucy. Really, Miss Peachum, you but expose yourself: besides, 'tis barbarous in you to worry a gentleman in his circumstances. AIR. Polly. Cease your funning, Never shall my heart trepan : Are but malice, To seduce my constant man. 'Tis most certain, By their flirting, Women oft have envy shewn : 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. Polly. Why, how now, saucy jade! How can you see me made Enter PEACHUM. [To him. [To her. Peach. Where's my wench? Ah, hussy, bussy? 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. 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. ed? Mac. But couldst thou bear to see me hang 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 luss of Patie's mill. SCENE L-Newgate. Enter LOCKIT and Lucy. ACT III. Lock. To be sure, wench, you must have been aiding and abetting to help him to his escape. 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 him, I wish I may be burnt! 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 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! Lucy. I could murder that impudent, happy strumpet-I gave him his life, and that creature enjoys the sweets of it-Ungrateful Macheath! AIR.-South Sea ballad. My love is all madness and folly; Toss, tumble, and cry, Is lost in the arms Of that jilt, that inveigling harlot ! Stark blind to my charms, Is lost in the arms Of that jilt, that inveigling harlot ! 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 liquor, so I'll ply him that way, get the secret from him, and turn this affair to my own advantage :- -Lucy-[Enter Lucy.] Are there any of Peachum's people now in the house? Lucy. Filch, sir, is drinking a quartern of strong waters in the next room with Black Moll. [Exit Lucy. Lock. Bid him come to me. Enter FILCH. Why, boy, thou lookest as if thou wert halfstarved, like a shotten herring. But, boy, can'st thou tell me where thy master is to be found? Filch. At his lock, sir, at the Crooked Billet. Lock. Very well--I have nothing more with you. [Exit FILCH.] I'll go to him there, for I have many important affairs to settle with him, and in the way of those transactions I'll artfully get into his secret-so that Macheath shall not remain a day longer out of my clutches. Enter Lucy. [Exit. Lucy. Jealousy, rage, love, and fear, are at once tearing me to pieces. How I am weatherbeaten and shattered with distresses! AIR.-One evening having lost my way. I'm like a skiff on the ocean tost, Now high, now low, with cach billow borne, With her rudder broke, and her anchor lost, Deserted and all forlorn: While thus I lie rolling and tossing all night, That Polly lies sporting on seas of delight! Revenge, revenge, revenge, Shall appease my restless sprite! I have the ratsbane ready- -I run no risk, for I can lay her death upon the gin, and so many die of that naturally, that I shall never be called in question— But say I were to be hanged- -I never could be hanged for any thing that would give me greater comfort than the poisoning that slut. The good husband, as meek as a lamb, First grants her her will. And the quieting draught is a dram; count. 35 e-I'll be upon my pump some secrets out of me- Enter Lucy, with strong waters. Polly. Indeed, child, you have given yourself trouble to no purpose, you must, my dear, ex cuse me. Polly. I have no excuse for my own behaviour, madam, but my misfortunes-and really, madam, I suffer too upon your ac-ishly affected about taking a cup of strong Lucy. Really, Miss Polly, you are as squeamLacy. But, Miss Polly-in the way of friend-Polly, I shall take it monstrously ill, if you rewaters, as a lady before company. I vow, ship, will you give me leave to propose a glass of cordial to you? 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! Polly. I am sorry, madam, my 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. Pelly. 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. Lury. 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 Let's take a chirping glass. The vapours of despair, I can't bear, child, to see you in such low spirits fuse me. 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. Lucy. O husband, husband! my heart longed to see thee, but to see thee thus, distracts me! 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. Lucy. 'Tis Lucy speaks. Polly. Is thus true love requited? 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. 1 decide? Wives, the day of our death, are as fond as a bride. One wife is too much for most husbands to hear, take ill. Polly. But if his own misfortunes have made 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, Is as bad as a watʼry grave; 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. Did you ever hear of a gallant sailor ? AIR.-Why are mine eyes still flowing? Their eyes, their lips, their busses, AIR.-Green Sleeves. Since laws were made for every degree, Mac. The charge is prepared, the lawyers are To curb vice in others, as well as in me, met, The judges all ranged (a terrible show !) HEATH in a melancholy posture. AIR.-Happy groves. O cruel, cruel, cruel case! Must Isuffer this disgrace? MAC AIR.-Of all the girls that are so smart. Of all the friends in time of grief, AIR.-Britons strike home. [Drinks. Since I must swing-1 scorn, I scorn to wince AIR.-Chevy chase. I wonder we ha'n't better company But gold from law can take out the sting, 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 misfortunes-but 'tis what we must all your 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. [Drinks a glass of wine. Mat. We'll do't. But now again my spirits sink. I'll raise them high with wine. |