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                <title type="main">The Beggar's Opera: </title>
                <title type="subordinate">An Electronic Edition</title>

                <author>
                    <name key="n80045862">Gay, John, 1685-1732</name>
                </author>

                <editor>:<br />
                    <name>Newman, Steve</name><br />
                    <name>Rowland, Fred</name><br />
                    <name>Krick, Jack</name><br />
                    <name>Wermer-Colan, Alex</name><br />
                    <name>Gates, Ian</name><br />
                    
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                <edition>2020-11-18</edition>
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                <publisher>Temple University</publisher>
                <pubPlace>Philadelphia, PA 19122</pubPlace>
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                        <title level="m">The Beggar's Opera. As it is Acted at the Theatre-Royal in
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                            <name key="n80045862">Gay, John, 1685-1732</name>
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                            <publisher>John Watts</publisher>
                            <pubPlace>London, UK</pubPlace>
                            <date>1728-00-00</date>
                            <!--This edition is based on the first edition, first issue authoriative textually, compared to the editions by Peter Lewis (1973), David Fuller (1983), and Hal Gladfelder (2013).  Thanks to Prof. Gladfelder for making an electronic version of his edition available.-->
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        <!-- The conversion to HTML does not follow our rends -->

        <front>

            <titlePage>
                <docTitle>
                    <titlePart type="main">
                        <lb/>THE <lb/><hi rend="italic">BEGGAR’s</hi>
                        <lb/>OPERA.</titlePart>

                    <titlePart type="sub"><lb/>As it is Acted at the <lb/><rs type="place"
                            >THEATRE-ROYAL</rs><lb/>IN <lb/>LINCOLNS-INN-FIELDS.</titlePart>
                </docTitle>

                <byline><lb/>Written by <docAuthor>Mr. <hi rend="italic"
                    >GAY.</hi></docAuthor></byline>

                <epigraph>
                    <cit>
                        <lb/>
                        <!--quote tag produces quotation marks, which is not in copytext -->
                        <quote>-----<hi rend="italic">Nos hæc novimus esse nihil.</hi>
                        </quote>
                    </cit>
                    <bibl>-Mart.</bibl>
                </epigraph>

                <lb/>
                <docTitle>
                    <titlePart type="sub">To which is Added, <lb/><hi rend="italic">The</hi> MUSICK
                            <hi rend="italic"> Engrav’d on</hi> COPPER-<lb/> PLATES.</titlePart>
                </docTitle>

                <docImprint>
                    <lb/>LONDON: <lb/> Printed for <publisher>JOHN WATTS</publisher>, <pubPlace>at
                        the Printing-Office In <hi rend="italics">Wild-Court</hi>, near <hi
                            rend="italics">Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields.</hi></pubPlace><lb/><date> M
                        DCCXXVIII.</date>
                    <lb/>[Price 1s. 6d.]</docImprint>
            </titlePage>




            <performance>

                <castList>
                    <head>DRAMATIS PERSONAE.</head>

                    <castGroup>
                        <head>MEN.</head>
                        <castItem>
                            <role>Peachum.</role>
                            <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Hippesley.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castItem><role>Lockit.</role>
                            <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics"> Hall. </hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castItem>
                            <role>Macheath.</role>
                            <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Walker.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castItem><role>Filch.</role>
                            <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Clark.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castGroup>
                            <head><hi rend="italics">Macheath</hi>'s Gang.</head>
                            <castItem><role>Jemmy Twitcher.</role>
                                <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">H. Bullock.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role><hi rend="italics">Crook-finger’d</hi> Jack.</role>
                                <actor><hi rend="italics">Mr. Houghton.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Wat Dreary.</role>
                                <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Smith.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Robin <hi rend="italics">of</hi> Bagshot.</role>
                                <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Lacy.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Nimming Ned.</role>
                                <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Pit</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Harry Padington.</role>
                                <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Eaton.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Matt <hi rend="italics">of the</hi> Mint.</role>
                                <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Spiller.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Ben Budge.</role>
                                <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Morgan.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        </castGroup>
                        <castItem>
                            <role><hi rend="italics">Beggar.</hi></role>
                            <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Chapman.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castItem><role><hi rend="italics">Player.</hi></role>
                            <actor>Mr. <hi rend="italics">Milward.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castItem><role><hi rend="italics">Constables, Drawer, Turnkey,
                                &amp;c.</hi></role></castItem>
                    </castGroup>
                    <castGroup>
                        <head>WOMEN.</head>
                        <castItem><role><hi rend="italics">Mrs.</hi> Peachum.</role>
                            <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Martin.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castItem><role>Polly Peachum.</role>
                            <actor>Miss <hi rend="italics">Fenton.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castItem><role> Lucy Lockit.</role>
                            <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Egleton.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castItem><role>Diana Trapes.</role>
                            <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Martin.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        <castGroup>
                            <head>Women of the Town.</head>
                            <castItem><role><hi rend="italics">Mrs.</hi> Coaxer.</role>
                                <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Holiday.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Dolly Trull.</role>
                                <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Lacy.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role><hi rend="italics">Mrs.</hi> Vixen.</role>
                                <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Rice.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Betty Doxy.</role>
                                <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Rogers.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Jenny Diver.</role>
                                <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Clarke.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role><hi rend="italics">Mrs.</hi> Slammekin.</role>
                                <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Morgan.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Suky Tawdry.</role>
                                <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Palin.</hi></actor></castItem>
                            <castItem><role>Molly Brazen.</role>
                                <actor>Mrs. <hi rend="italics">Sallee.</hi></actor></castItem>
                        </castGroup>
                    </castGroup>
                </castList>
            </performance>
        </front>
        <body>

            <div1>
                <div2 type="introduction">
                    <p>INTRODUCTION.</p>
                    <lb/>

                    <stage>BEGGAR. PLAYER.</stage>
                    <lb/>
                    <sp who="BG">
                        <speaker><hi rend="italics">Beggar.</hi></speaker>
                        <p>IF Poverty be a Title to Poetry, I am sure No-body can dispute mine. I
                            own myself of the Company of Beggars; and I make one at their Weekly
                            Festivals at St. <placeName ref="#Giles" rend="italics">Giles</placeName>’s. I have a small Yearly
                            Salary for my Catches, and am welcome to a Dinner there whenever I
                            please, which is more than most Poets can say.</p>
                    </sp>
                    <sp who="PL">
                        <speaker><hi rend="italics">Player.</hi></speaker>
                        <p>As we live by the Muses, ’tis but Gratitude in us to encourage Poetical
                            Merit where-ever we find it. The Muses, contrary to all other Ladies,
                            pay no Distinction to Dress, and never partially mistake the Pertness of
                            Embroidery for Wit, nor the Modesty of Want for Dulness. Be the Author
                            who he will, we push his Play as far as it will go. So (though you are
                            in Want) I wish you Success heartily.</p>
                    </sp>
                    <sp who="BG">
                        <speaker><hi rend="italics">Beggar.</hi></speaker>
                        <p>This Piece I own was originally writ for the celebrating the Marriage of
                                <hi rend="italics">James Chanter</hi> and <hi rend="italics">Moll
                                Lay</hi>, two most excellent Ballad-Singers. I have introduc’d the
                            Similes that are in all your celebrated <hi rend="italics">Operas:</hi>
                            The <hi rend="italics">Swallow,</hi> the <hi rend="italics">Moth</hi>,
                            the <hi rend="italics">Bee</hi>, the <hi rend="italics">Ship</hi>, the
                                <hi rend="italics">Flower</hi>, &amp;c. Besides, I have a Prison
                            Scene which the Ladies always reckon charmingly pathetick. As to the
                            Parts, I have observ’d such a nice Impartiality to our two Ladies, that
                            it is impossible for either of them to take Offence. I hope I may be
                            forgiven, that I have not made my Opera throughout unnatural, like those
                            in vogue; for I have no Recitative: Excepting this, as I have consented
                            to have neither Prologue nor Epilogue, it must be allow’d an Opera in
                            all its forms. The Piece indeed hath been heretofore frequently
                            represented by ourselves in our great Room at St. <placeName ref="#Giles" rend="italics">Giles</placeName>’s, so that I cannot too often acknowledge your Charity
                            in bringing it now on the Stage.</p>
                    </sp>
                    <sp who="PL">
                        <speaker><hi rend="italics">Player.</hi></speaker>
                        <p>But I see ’tis time for us to withdraw; the Actors are preparing to
                            begin. Play away the Ouverture.</p>
                    </sp>

                    <stage>[<hi rend="italics">Exeunt.</hi></stage>

                </div2>
                <div2 type="act">
                    <head>ACT I.</head>
                    <div3 type="scene" n="1">
                        <head>SCENE I.</head>

                        <stage>SCENE Peachum's <hi rend="italics">House.</hi><lb/> Peachum <hi
                                rend="italics">sitting at a Table with a large Book of Accounts
                                before him.</hi></stage>

                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="1">
                                        <head>AIR I. An old Woman cloathed in Gray, <hi
                                                rend="italics">&amp;c.</hi></head>

                                        <l>
                                            <hi rend="italics">THROUGH all the Employments of
                                                Life</hi></l>
                                        <l>
                                            <hi rend="italics"> Each Neighbour abuses his
                                                Brother;</hi></l>
                                        <l>
                                            <hi rend="italics">Whore and Rogue they call Husband and
                                                Wife:</hi></l>
                                        <l>
                                            <hi rend="italics"> All Professions be-rogue one
                                                another.</hi></l>
                                        <l>
                                            <hi rend="italics">The Priest calls the Lawyer a
                                                Cheat,</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics"> The Lawyer be-knaves the
                                            Divine;</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics">And the Statesman, because he's so
                                                great,</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics"> Thinks his Trade as honest as
                                                mine.</hi></l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>

                            <p>A Lawyer is an honest Employment, so is mine. Like me too he acts in
                                a double Capacity, both against Rogues and for 'em; for 'tis but
                                fitting that we should protect and encourage Cheats, since we live
                                by them.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="2">
                        <head>SCENE II.</head>

                        <stage>Peachum, Filch.</stage>

                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Sir, Black <hi rend="italics">Moll</hi> hath sent word her Tryal
                                comes on in the Afternoon, and she hopes you will order Matters so
                                as to bring her off.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Why, she may plead her Belly at worst; to my Knowledge she hath taken
                                care of that Security. But as the Wench is very active and
                                industrious, you may satisfy her that I'll soften the Evidence.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p><hi rend="italics">Tom Gagg</hi>, Sir, is found guilty.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>A lazy Dog! When I took him the time before, I told him what he would
                                come to if he did not mend his Hand. This is Death without Reprieve.
                                I may venture to Book him. [<hi rend="italics">writes</hi>] For <hi
                                    rend="italics">Tom Gagg</hi>, forty Pounds. Let <hi
                                    rend="italics">Betty Sly</hi>know that I'll save her from
                                Transportation, for I can get more by her staying in <hi
                                    rend="italics">England</hi>.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p><hi rend="italics">Betty</hi> hath brought more Goods into our Lock
                                to-year than any five of the Gang; and in truth, 'tis a pity to lose
                                so good a Customer.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If none of the Gang take her off, she may, in the common course of
                                Business, live a Twelve-month longer. I love to let Women scape. A
                                good Sportsman always lets the Hen Partridges fly, because the breed
                                of the Game depends upon them. Besides, here the Law allows us no
                                Reward; there is nothing to be got by the Death of Women----except
                                our Wives.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Without dispute, she is a fine Woman! 'Twas to her I was oblig'd for
                                my Education, and (to say a bold Word) she hath train'd up more
                                young Fellows to the Business than the Gaming-table.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Truly, <hi rend="italics">Filch</hi>, thy Observation is right. We
                                and the Surgeons are more beholden to Women than all the Professions
                                besides.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="2">
                                        <head>AIR II. The bonny gray-ey'd Morn, <hi rend="italics"
                                                >&amp;c.</hi></head>


                                        <stage>Filch.</stage>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics">Tis Woman that seduces all
                                                Mankind,</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics"> By her we first were taught the
                                                wheedling Arts:</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics">Her very Eyes can cheat; when most
                                                she's kind,</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics"> She tricks us of our Money with our
                                                Hearts.</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics">For her, like Wolves by night we roam
                                                for Prey,</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics"> And practise ev'ry Fraud to bribe her
                                                Charms;</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics">For Suits of Love, like Law, are won
                                                by Pay,</hi></l>
                                        <l><hi rend="italics"> And Beauty must be fee'd into our
                                                Arms</hi>.</l>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But make haste to <placeName ref="Newgate" rend="italics">Newgate</placeName>, Boy, and let my
                                Friends know what I intend; for I love to make them easy one way or
                                other.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>When a Gentleman is long kept in suspence, Penitence may break his
                                Spirit ever after. Besides, Certainty gives a Man a good Air upon
                                his Tryal, and makes him risque another without Fear or Scruple. But
                                I'll away, for 'tis a Pleasure to be the Messenger of Comfort to
                                Friends in Affliction.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="3">
                        <head>SCENE III.</head>

                        <stage>Peachum.</stage>

                        <sp>
                            <p>But 'tis now high time to look about me for a decent Execution
                                against next Sessions. I hate a lazy Rogue, by whom one can get
                                nothing 'till he is hang'd. A Register of the Gang, [reading]
                                Crook-finger'd Jack. A Year and a half in the Service; Let me see
                                how much the Stock owes to his Industry; one, two, three, four, five
                                Gold Watches, and seven Silver ones. A mighty clean-handed Fellow!
                                Sixteen Snuff-boxes, five of them of true Gold. Six dozen of
                                Handkerchiefs, four silver-hilted Swords, half a dozen of Shirts,
                                three Tye-Perriwigs, and a Piece of Broad Cloth. Considering these
                                are only the Fruits of his leisure Hours, I don't know a prettier
                                Fellow, for no Man alive hath a more engaging Presence of Mind upon
                                the Road. Wat Dreary, alias Brown Will, an irregular Dog, who hath
                                an underhand way of disposing of his Goods. I'll try him only for a
                                Sessions or two longer upon his good Behaviour. Harry Padington, a
                                poor petty-larceny Rascal, without the least Genius; that Fellow,
                                though he were to live these six Months, will never come to the
                                Gallows with any Credit. Slippery Sam; he goes off the next
                                Sessions, for the Villain hath the Impudence to have views of
                                following his Trade as a Taylor, which he calls an honest
                                Employment. Matt of the Mint; listed not above a Month ago, a
                                promising sturdy Fellow, and diligent in his way; somewhat too bold
                                and hasty, and may raise good Contributions on the Publick, if he
                                does not cut himself short by Murder. Tom. Tipple, a guzzling
                                soaking Sot, who is always too drunk to stand himself, or to make
                                others stand. A Cart is absolutely necessary for him. Robin of
                                Bagshot, alias Gorgon, alias Bluff Bob, alias Carbuncle, alias Bob
                                Booty.</p>

                        </sp>
                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="4">
                        <head>SCENE IV.</head>

                        <stage>Peachum, Mrs. Peachum.</stage>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What of Bob Booty, Husband? I hope nothing bad hath betided him. You
                                know, my Dear, he's a favourite Customer of mine. 'Twas he made me a
                                Present of this Ring.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I have set his Name down in the Black-List, that's all, my Dear; he
                                spends his Life among Women, and as soon as his Money is gone, one
                                or other of the Ladies will hang him for the Reward, and there's
                                forty Pound lost to us for-ever.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>You know, my Dear, I never meddle in matters of Death; I always leave
                                those Affairs to you. Women indeed are bitter bad Judges in these
                                cases, for they are so partial to the Brave that they think every
                                Man handsome who is going to the Camp or the Gallows.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="3">
                                        <head>AIR III. Cold and Raw, &amp;c.</head>


                                        <l>If any Wench Venus's Girdle wear,</l>
                                        <l>Though she be never so ugly;</l>
                                        <l>Lillys and Roses will quickly appear,</l>
                                        <l>And her Face look wond'rous smuggly.</l>
                                        <l>Beneath the left Ear so fit but a Cord,</l>
                                        <l>(A Rope so charming a Zone is!)</l>
                                        <l>The Youth in his Cart hath the Air of a Lord,</l>
                                        <l>And we cry, There dies an Adonis!</l>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <p>But really, Husband, you should not be too hard-hearted, for you
                                never had a finer, braver set of Men than at present. We have not
                                had a Murder among them all, these seven Months. And truly, my Dear,
                                that is a great Blessing.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What a dickens is the Woman always a whimpering about Murder for? No
                                Gentleman is ever look'd upon the worse for killing a Man in his own
                                Defence; and if Business cannot be carried on without it, what would
                                you have a Gentleman do?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If I am in the wrong, my Dear, you must excuse me, for No-body can
                                help the Frailty of an over-scrupulous Conscience.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Murder is as fashionable a Crime as a Man can be guilty of. How many
                                fine Gentlemen have we in <placeName ref="#Newgate">Newgate</placeName> every Year, purely upon that
                                Article! If they have wherewithal to persuade the Jury to bring it
                                in Manslaughter, what are they the worse for it? So, my Dear, have
                                done upon this Subject. Was Captain Macheath here this Morning, for
                                the Bank-notes he left with you last Week?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Yes, my Dear; and though the Bank hath stopt Payment, he was so
                                cheerful and so agreeable! Sure there is not a finer Gentleman upon
                                the Road than the Captain! If he comes from <placeName ref="#Bagshot">Bagshot</placeName> at any
                                reasonable Hour he hath promis'd to make one this Evening with Polly
                                and me, and Bob Booty, at a Party of Quadrille. Pray, my Dear, is
                                the Captain rich?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>The Captain keeps too good Company ever to grow rich. <placeName
                                    ref="#Marylebone">Mary-bone</placeName> and the Chocolate-houses
                                are his undoing. The Man that proposes to get Money by Play should
                                have the Education of a fine Gentleman, and be train'd up to it from
                                his Youth.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Really, I am sorry upon Polly's Account the Captain hath not more
                                Discretion. What business hath he to keep Company with Lords and
                                Gentlemen? he should leave them to prey upon one another.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Upon Polly's Account! What, a Plague, does the Woman mean?----Upon
                                Polly's Account!</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Captain Macheath is very fond of the Girl.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And what then?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If I have any Skill in the Ways of Women, I am sure Polly thinks him
                                a very pretty Man.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And what then? You would not be so mad to have the Wench marry him!
                                Gamesters and Highwaymen are generally very good to their Whores,
                                but they are very Devils to their Wives.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But if Polly should be in love, how should we help her, or how can
                                she help herself? Poor Girl, I am in the utmost Concern about
                                her.</p>
                        </sp>



                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="4">
                                        <head>AIR IV. Why is your faithful Slave disdain'd?
                                            &amp;c.</head>

                                        <l>If Love the Virgin's Heart invade,</l>
                                        <l>How, like a Moth, the simple Maid</l>
                                        <l>Still plays about the Flame!</l>
                                        <l>If soon she be not made a Wife,</l>
                                        <l>Her Honour's sing'd, and then for Life,</l>
                                        <l>She's----what I dare not name.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Look ye, Wife. A handsome Wench in our way of Business is as
                                profitable as at the Bar of a <placeName ref="#Middle"
                                    >Temple</placeName> Coffee-House, who looks upon it as her
                                Livelihood to grant every Liberty but one. You see I would indulge
                                the Girl as far as prudently we can. In any thing, but Marriage!
                                After that, my Dear, how shall we be safe? Are we not then in her
                                Husband's Power? For a Husband hath the absolute Power over all a
                                Wife's Secrets but her own. If the Girl had the Discretion of a
                                Court Lady, who can have a dozen young Fellows at her Ear without
                                complying with one, I should not matter it; but Polly is Tinder, and
                                a Spark will at once set her on a Flame. Married! If the Wench does
                                not know her own Profit, sure she knows her own Pleasure better than
                                to make herself a Property! My Daughter to me should be, like a
                                Court Lady to a Minister of State, a Key to the whole Gang. Married!
                                If the Affair is not already done, I'll terrify her from it, by the
                                Example of our Neighbours.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>May-hap, my Dear, you may injure the Girl. She loves to imitate the
                                fine Ladies, and she may only allow the Captain Liberties in the
                                View of Interest.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But 'tis your Duty, my Dear, to warn the Girl against her Ruin, and
                                to instruct her how to make the most of her Beauty. I'll go to her
                                this moment, and sift her. In the mean time, Wife, rip out the
                                Coronets and Marks of these dozen of Cambric Handkerchiefs, for I
                                can dispose of them this Afternoon to a Chap in the City.</p>

                        </sp>





                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="5">
                        <head>SCENE V.</head>


                        <stage>Mrs. Peachum.</stage>

                        <p>Never was a Man more out of the way in an Argument than my Husband! Why
                            must our Polly, forsooth, differ from her Sex, and love only her
                            Husband? And why must Polly's Marriage, contrary to all Observation,
                            make her the less followed by other Men? All Men are Thieves in Love,
                            and like a Woman the better for being another's Property.</p>





                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="5">
                                        <head>AIR V. Of all the simple Things we do, &amp;c.</head>

                                        <l>A Maid is like the golden Oar,</l>
                                        <l>Which hath Guineas intrinsical in't,</l>
                                        <l>Whose Worth is never known, before</l>
                                        <l>It is try'd and imprest in the <placeName ref="#Mint">Mint</placeName>.</l>
                                        <l>A Wife's like a Guinea in Gold,</l>
                                        <l>Stampt with the Name of her Spouse;</l>
                                        <l>Now here, now there; is bought, or is sold;</l>
                                        <l>And is current in every House.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>


                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="6">
                        <head>SCENE VI.</head>

                        <stage>Mrs. Peachum, Filch.</stage>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Come hither Filch. I am as fond of this Child, as though my Mind
                                misgave me he were my own. He hath as fine a Hand at picking a
                                Pocket as a Woman, and is as nimble-finger'd as a Juggler. If an
                                unlucky Session does not cut the Rope of thy Life, I pronounce, Boy,
                                thou wilt be a great Man in History. Where was your Post last Night,
                                my Boy?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I ply'd at the <placeName ref="#King">Opera</placeName>, Madam; and
                                considering 'twas neither dark nor rainy, so that there was no great
                                Hurry in getting Chairs and Coaches, made a tolerable hand on't.
                                These seven Handkerchiefs, Madam.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Colour'd ones, I see. They are of sure Sale from our Ware-house at
                                    <placeName ref="#Rotherhithe">Redriff</placeName> among the
                                Seamen.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And this Snuff-box.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Set in Gold! A pretty Encouragement this to a young Beginner.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I had a fair tug at a charming Gold Watch. Pox take the Taylors for
                                making the Fobs so deep and narrow! It stuck by the way, and I was
                                forc'd 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.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>You should go to <placeName ref="#Hockley">Hockley in the
                                    Hole</placeName>, and to <placeName ref="Marylebone"
                                    >Marybone</placeName>, 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 <placeName ref="#Bailey">Old-Baily</placeName>! For the first Fact I'll insure
                                thee from being hang'd; and going to Sea, Filch, will come time
                                enough upon a Sentence of Transportation. But now, since you have
                                nothing better to do, ev'n 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 Lye; for you know
                                I hate a Lyar. Do you know of any thing that hath past between
                                Captain Macheath and our Polly?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I beg you, Madam, don't ask me; for I must either tell a Lye to you
                                or to Miss Polly; for I promis'd her I would not tell.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But when the Honour of our Family is concern'd----</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Filch.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="7">
                        <head>SCENE VII.</head>

                        <stage>Peachum, Polly.</stage>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I know as well as any of the fine Ladies how to make the most of my
                                self and of my Man too. A Woman knows how to be mercenary, though
                                she hath never been in a 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 show 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.</p>
                        </sp>



                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="6">
                                        <head>AIR VI. What shall I do to show how much I love her,
                                            &amp;c.</head>

                                        <l>Virgins are like the fair Flower in its Lustre,</l>
                                        <l>Which in the Garden enamels the Ground;</l>
                                        <l>Near it the Bees in Play flutter and cluster,</l>
                                        <l>And gaudy Butterflies frolick around.</l>
                                        <l>But, when once pluck'd, 'tis no longer alluring,</l>
                                        <l>To Covent-Garden 'tis sent, (as yet sweet,)</l>
                                        <l>There fades, and shrinks, and grows past all
                                            enduring,</l>
                                        <l>Rots, stinks, and dies, and is trod under feet.</l>

                                        <stage>Peachum.</stage>
                                        <p>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
                                            play'd the fool and are married, you Jade you, I'll cut
                                            your Throat, Hussy. Now you know my Mind.</p>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>





                        </sp>
                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="8">
                        <head>SCENE VIII.</head>

                        <stage>Peachum, Polly, Mrs. Peachum.</stage>




                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="7">
                                        <head>AIR VII. Oh London is a fine Town.</head>

                                        <stage>Mrs. Peachum, in a very great Passion.</stage>

                                        <l>Our Polly is a sad Slut! nor heeds what we have taught
                                            her.</l>
                                        <l>I wonder any Man alive will ever rear a Daughter!</l>
                                        <l>For she must have both Hoods and Gowns, and Hoops to
                                            swell her Pride,</l>
                                        <l>With Scarfs and Stays, and Gloves and Lace; and she will
                                            have Men beside;</l>
                                        <l>And when she's drest with Care and Cost, all-tempting,
                                            fine and gay,</l>
                                        <l>As Men should serve a Cowcumber, she flings herself
                                            away.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <p>Our Polly is a sad Slut, &amp;c.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>
                            <p>You Baggage! you Hussy! you inconsiderate Jade! had you been hang'd,
                                it would not have vex'd me, for that might have been your
                                Misfortune; but to do such a mad thing by Choice! The Wench is
                                married, Husband.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Married! The Captain is a bold Man, and will risque any thing for
                                Money; to be sure he believes her a Fortune. Do you think your
                                Mother and I should have liv'd comfortably so long together, if ever
                                we had been married? Baggage!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I knew she was always a proud Slut; and now the Wench hath play'd 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 no-body
                                into our Family but a Highwayman? Why, thou foolish Jade, thou wilt
                                be as ill-us'd, and as much neglected, as if thou hadst married a
                                Lord!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Let not your Anger, my Dear, break 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 ruin'd or no?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>With Polly's Fortune, she might very well have gone off to a Person
                                of Distinction. Yes, that you might, you pouting Slut!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>[Pinches her.</stage>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Oh!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>[Screaming.</stage>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Why, Polly, I shall soon know if you are married, by Macheath's
                                keeping from our House.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="7">
                                        <head>AIR VIII. Grim King of the Ghosts, &amp;c.</head>

                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>Can Love be controul'd by Advice?</l>
                                        <l>Will Cupid our Mothers obey?</l>
                                        <l>Though my Heart were as frozen as Ice,</l>
                                        <l>At his Flame 'twould have melted away.</l>

                                        <l>When he kist me so closely he prest,</l>
                                        <l> 'Twas so sweet that I must have comply'd:</l>
                                        <l>So I thought it both safest and best</l>
                                        <l>To marry, for fear you should chide.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Then all the Hopes of our Family are gone for ever and ever!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And Macheath may hang his Father and Mother-in-Law, in hope to get
                                into their Daughter's Fortune.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I did not marry him (as 'tis the Fashion) cooly and deliberately for
                                Honour or Money. But, I love him.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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 myself----Oh!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>[Faints.</stage>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>See, Wench, to what a Condition you have reduc'd your poor Mother! a
                                Glass of Cordial, this instant. How the poor Woman takes it to
                                Heart!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>[Polly goes out, and returns with it.</stage>

                        <sp>
                            <p>Ah, Hussy, now this is the only Comfort your Mother has left!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Give her another Glass, Sir; my Mama drinks double the Quantity
                                whenever she is out of Order. This, you see, fetches her.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>The Girl shows such a Readiness, and so much Concern, that I could
                                almost find in my Heart to forgive her.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="7">
                                        <head>AIR IX. O Jenny, O Jenny, where hast thou been.</head>

                                        <l>O Polly, you might have toy'd and kist.</l>
                                        <l>By keeping Men off, you keep them on.</l>
                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>But he so teaz'd me,</l>
                                        <l>And he so pleas'd me,</l>
                                        <l>What I did, you must have done.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>

                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Not with a Highwayman.----You sorry Slut!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>A Word with you, Wife. 'Tis no new thing for a Wench to take Man
                                without consent of Parents. You know 'tis the Frailty of Woman, my
                                Dear.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Make your self 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.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Well, Polly; as far as one Woman can forgive another, I forgive
                                thee.----Your Father is too fond of you, Hussy.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Then all my Sorrows are at an end.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>A mighty likely Speech in troth, for a Wench who is just married!</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="10">
                                        <head>AIR X. Thomas, I cannot, &amp;c.</head>

                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>I, like a Ship in Storms, was tost;</l>
                                        <l>Yet afraid to put in to Land;</l>
                                        <l>For seiz'd in the Port the Vessel's lost,</l>
                                        <l>Whose Treasure is contreband.</l>
                                        <l>The Waves are laid,</l>
                                        <l>My Duty's paid.</l>
                                        <l>O Joy beyond Expression!</l>
                                        <l>Thus, safe a-shore,</l>
                                        <l>I ask no more,</l>
                                        <l>My All is in my Possession.</l>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I hear Customers in t'other Room; Go, talk with 'em, Polly; but come
                                to us again, as soon as they are gone.----But, heark ye, Child, if
                                'tis the Gentleman 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 Suky Straddle, to make a Figure with it to-night at
                                a Tavern in <placeName ref="#Drury">Drury-Lane</placeName>. If t'other Gentleman calls for the
                                Silver-hilted Sword; you know Beetle-brow'd Jemmy hath it on, and he
                                doth not come from Tunbridge till Tuesday Night; so that it cannot
                                be had till then.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>
                    <div3 type="scene" n="9">
                        <head>SCENE IX.</head>

                        <stage>Peachum, Mrs. Peachum.</stage>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If she had had only an Intrigue with the Fellow, why the very best
                                Families have excus'd and huddled up a Frailty of that sort. 'Tis
                                Marriage, Husband, that makes it a Blemish.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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 dye in a Session or two, Polly's Dower would
                                come into Dispute.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>That, indeed, is a Point which ought to be consider'd.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="11">
                                        <head>AIR XI. A Soldier and a Sailor.</head>

                                        <l>A Fox may steal your Hens, Sir,</l>
                                        <l>A Whore your Health and Pence, Sir,</l>
                                        <l>Your Daughter rob your Chest, Sir,</l>
                                        <l>Your Wife may steal your Rest, Sir,</l>
                                        <l>A Thief your Goods and Plate.</l>
                                        <l>But this is all but picking,</l>
                                        <l>With Rest, Pence, Chest and Chicken;</l>
                                        <l>It ever was decreed, Sir,</l>
                                        <l>If Lawyer's Hand is fee'd, Sir,</l>
                                        <l>He steals your whole Estate.</l>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>


                            <p>The Lawyers are bitter Enemies to those in our Way. They don't care
                                that any Body should get a Clandestine Livelihood but
                                themselves.</p>

                        </sp>
                    </div3>
                    <div3 type="scene" n="10">
                        <head>SCENE X.</head>

                        <stage>Mrs. Peachum, Peachum, Polly.</stage>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>'Twas only Nimming Ned. He brought in a Damask Window-Curtain, a
                                Hoop-Petticoat, a Pair of Silver Candlesticks, a Perriwig, and one
                                Silk Stocking, from the Fire that happen'd last Night.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>There is not a Fellow that is cleverer in his way, and saves more
                                Goods out of the Fire than Ned. But now, Polly, to your Affair; for
                                Matters must not be left as they are. You are married then, it
                                seems?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Yes, Sir.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And how do you propose to live, Child?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Like other Women, Sir, upon the Industry of my Husband.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What, is the Wench turn'd Fool? A Highwayman's Wife, like a
                                Soldier's, hath as little of his Pay, as of his Company.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And had not you the common Views of a Gentlewoman in your Marriage,
                                Polly?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I don't know what you mean, Sir.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Of a Jointure, and of being a Widow.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But I love him, Sir: how then could I have Thoughts of parting with
                                him?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Parting with him! Why, that is the whole Scheme and Intention of all
                                Marriage Articles. The comfortable Estate of Widow-hood, 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 pleas'd? If you have any Views of this sort, Polly, I
                                shall think the Match not so very unreasonable.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>How I dread to hear your Advice! Yet I must beg you to explain
                                yourself.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Secure what he hath got, have him peach'd the next Sessions, and then
                                at once you are made a rich Widow.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What, murder the Man I love! The Blood runs cold at my Heart with the
                                very Thought of it.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Fye, 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 'tis ours to take Robbers; every Man in his Business. So
                                that there is no Malice in the Case.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Ay, Husband, now you have nick'd the Matter. To have him peach'd is
                                the only thing could ever make me forgive her.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="12">
                                        <head>AIR XII. Now ponder well, ye Parents dear.</head>

                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>Oh, ponder well! be not severe;</l>
                                        <l>So save a wretched Wife!</l>
                                        <l>For on the Rope that hangs my Dear</l>
                                        <l>Depends poor Polly's Life.</l>

                                        <p>Mrs. Peachum. But your Duty to your Parents, Hussy,
                                            obliges you to hang him. What would many a Wife give for
                                            such an Opportunity!</p>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What is a Jointure, what is Widow-hood to me? I know my Heart. I
                                cannot survive him.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="13">
                                        <head>AIR XIII. Le printemps rappelle aux armes.</head>

                                        <l>The Turtle thus with plaintive crying,</l>
                                        <l>Her Lover dying,</l>
                                        <l>The Turtle thus with plaintive crying,</l>
                                        <l>Laments her Dove.</l>
                                        <l>Down she drops quite spent with sighing,</l>
                                        <l>Pair'd in Death, as pair'd in Love.</l>

                                        <p>Thus, Sir, it will happen to your poor Polly.</p>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What, is the Fool in Love in earnest then? I hate thee for being
                                particular: Why, Wench, thou art a Shame to thy very Sex.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But hear me, Mother.----If you ever lov'd----</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Those cursed Play-books she reads have been her Ruin. One Word more,
                                Hussy, and I shall knock your Brains out, if you have any.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Keep out of the way, Polly, for fear of Mischief, and consider of
                                what is propos'd to you.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Away, Hussy. Hang your Husband, and be dutiful.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="11">
                        <head>SCENE XI</head>

                        <stage>Mrs. Peachum, Peachum.</stage>

                        <stage>[Polly listning.</stage>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>The Thing, Husband, must and shall be done. For the sake of
                                Intelligence we must take other Measures, and have him peach'd the
                                next Session without her Consent. If she will not know her Duty, we
                                know ours.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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
                                can't find in my Heart to have a Hand in his Death. I wish you could
                                have made Polly undertake it.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But in a Case of Necessity----our own Lives are in danger.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Then, indeed, we must comply with the Customs of the World, and make
                                Gratitude give way to Interest.----He shall be taken off.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I'll undertake to manage Polly.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And I'll prepare Matters for the <placeName ref="#Bailey">Old-Baily</placeName>.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="12">
                        <head>SCENE XII.</head>

                        <stage>Polly.</stage>

                        <sp>
                            <p>Now I'm 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 <placeName ref="#Holborn">Holborn</placeName>, 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 my self from
                                his dear dear Conversation! That too will distract me.----If he keep
                                out of the way, my Papa and Mama may in time relent, and we may be
                                happy.----If he stays, he is hang'd, and then he is lost for
                                ever!----He intended to lye conceal'd in my Room, 'till the Dusk or
                                the Evening: If they are abroad, I'll this Instant let him out, lest
                                some Accident should prevent him.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>[Exit, and returns.</stage>
                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="13">
                        <head>SCENE XIII.</head>

                        <stage>Polly, Macheath.</stage>

                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="14">
                                        <head>AIR XIV. Pretty Parrot, say----</head>

                                        <stage>Macheath.</stage>
                                        <l>Pretty Polly, say,</l>
                                        <l>When I was away,</l>
                                        <l>Did your Fancy never stray</l>
                                        <l>To some newer Lover?</l>
                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>Without Disguise,</l>
                                        <l>Heaving Sighs,</l>
                                        <l>Doating Eyes,</l>
                                        <l>My constant Heart discover.</l>
                                        <l>Fondly let me loll!</l>
                                        <stage>Macheath.</stage>
                                        <sp>
                                            <p>O pretty, pretty Poll.</p>
                                        </sp>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And are you as fond as ever, my Dear?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Suspect my Honour, my Courage, suspect any thing but my Love.----May
                                my Pistols miss Fire, and my Mare slip her Shoulder while I am
                                pursu'd, if I ever forsake thee!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>



                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="15">
                                        <head>AIR XV. Pray, Fair One, be kind----</head>

                                        <stage>Macheath.</stage>
                                        <l>My Heart was so free,</l>
                                        <l>It rov'd like the Bee,</l>
                                        <l>'Till Polly my Passion requited;</l>
                                        <l>I sipt each Flower,</l>
                                        <l>I chang'd ev'ry Hour,</l>
                                        <l>But here ev'ry Flower is united.</l>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Were you sentenc'd to Transportation, sure, my Dear, you could not
                                leave me behind you----could you?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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 Looking-glass, or any Woman from
                                Quadrille.----But to tear me from thee is impossible!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="16">
                                        <head>AIR XVI. Over the Hills and far away.</head>

                                        <l>Were I laid on <placeName ref="#Greenland">Greenland</placeName>'s Coast,</l>
                                        <l>And in my Arms embrac'd my Lass;</l>
                                        <l>Warm amidst eternal Frost,</l>
                                        <l>Too soon the Half Year's Night would pass.</l>

                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>Were I sold on <placeName ref="#Indian">Indian Soil</placeName>,</l>
                                        <l>Soon as the burning Day was clos'd,</l>
                                        <l>I could mock the sultry Toil,</l>
                                        <l>When on my Charmer's Breast repos'd.</l>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And I would love you all the Day,</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Every Night would kiss and play,</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If with me you'd fondly stray</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Over the Hills and far away.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <p>Yes, I would go with thee. But oh!----how shall I speak it? I must be
                                torn from thee. We must part.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>How! Part!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>We must, we must.----My Papa and Mama are set against thy Life. They
                                now, even now are in Search after thee. They are preparing Evidence
                                against thee. Thy Life depends upon a Moment.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="16">
                                        <head>AIR XVII. Gin thou wert mine awn thing----</head>

                                        <l>O what Pain it is to part!</l>
                                        <l>Can I leave thee, can I leave thee?</l>
                                        <l>O what Pain it is to part!</l>
                                        <l>Can thy Polly ever leave thee?</l>
                                        <l>But lest Death my Love should thwart,</l>
                                        <l>And bring thee to the fatal Cart,</l>
                                        <l>Thus I tear thee from my bleeding Heart!</l>
                                        <l>Fly hence, and let me leave thee.</l>

                                        <p>One Kiss and then----one Kiss----begone----farewell.</p>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>My Hand, my Heart, my Dear, is so rivited to thine, that I cannot
                                unloose my Hold.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Must I then go?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And will not Absence change your Love?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If you doubt it, let me stay----and be hang'd.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>O how I fear! how I tremble!----Go----but when Safety will give you
                                leave, you will be sure to see me again; for 'till then Polly is
                                wretched.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>


                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="18">
                                        <head>AIR XVIII. O the Broom, &amp;c.</head>

                                        <stage>[Parting, and looking back at each other with
                                            fondness; he at one Door, she at the other.</stage>

                                        <stage>Macheath.</stage>
                                        <l>The Miser thus a Shilling sees,</l>
                                        <l>Which he's oblig'd to pay,</l>
                                        <l>With Sighs resigns it by degrees,</l>
                                        <l>And fears 'tis gone for aye.</l>

                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>The Boy, thus, when his Sparrow's flown,</l>
                                        <l>The Bird in Silence eyes;</l>
                                        <l>But soon as out of Sight 'tis gone,</l>
                                        <l>Whines, whimpers, sobs and cries.</l>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>

                </div2>
                <div2 type="act">
                    <head>ACT II.</head>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="1">
                        <head>SCENE I</head>



                        <stage>A Tavern near <placeName ref="#Newgate">Newgate</placeName>.</stage>

                        <stage>Jemmy Twitcher, Crook-finger'd Jack, Wat Dreary, Robin of Bagshot,
                            Nimming Ned, Henry Padington, Matt of the Mint, Ben Budge, and the rest
                            of the Gang, at the Table, with Wine, Brandy and Tobacco.</stage>

                        <sp who="BB">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Ben Budge.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But pr'ythee, Matt, what is become of thy Brother Tom? I have not
                                seen him since my Return from Transportation.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <!--Why the indentation?-->
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Poor Brother Tom had an Accident this time Twelve-month, and so
                                clever a made Fellow he was, that I could not save him from those
                                fleaing Rascals the Surgeons; and now, poor Man, he is among the
                                Otamys at <placeName ref="#Barber">Surgeon's Hall</placeName>.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="BB">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Ben Budge.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>So it seems, his Time was come.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="JT">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Jemmy Twitcher.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But the present Time is ours, and no Body alive hath more. Why are
                                the Laws levell'd at us? are we more dishonest than the rest of
                                Mankind? What we win, Gentlemen, is our own by the Law of Arms, and
                                the Right of Conquest.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="CF">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Crook-Finger'd Jack.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Where shall we find such another Set of practical Philosophers, who
                                to a Man are above the Fear of Death?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="WD">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Wat Dreary.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Sound Men, and true!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="RB">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Robin of Baghshot.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Of try'd Courage, and indefatigable Industry!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="NN">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Nimming Ned.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Who is there here that would not dye for his Friend?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="HP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Harry Padington.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Who is there here that would betray him for his Interest?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Show me a Gang of Courtiers that can say as much.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="BB">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Ben Budge.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>We are for a just Partition of the World, for every Man hath a Right
                                to enjoy Life.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint..</hi></speaker>
                            <p>We retrench the Superfluities of Mankind. The World is avaritious,
                                and I hate Avarice. A covetous fellow, like a Jack-daw, steals what
                                he was never made to enjoy, for the sake of hiding it. These are the
                                Robbers of Mankind, for Money was made for the Free-hearted and
                                Generous, and where is the Injury of taking from another, what he
                                hath not the Heart to make use of?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="JT">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Jemmy Twitcher.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Our several Stations for the Day are fixt. Good luck attend us all.
                                Fill the Glasses.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="19">
                                        <head>AIR XIX. Fill ev'ry Glass, &amp;c.</head>



                                        <stage>Matt of the Mint.</stage>
                                        <l>Fill ev'ry Glass, for Wine inspires us,</l>
                                        <l>And fires us</l>
                                        <l>With Courage, Love and Joy.</l>
                                        <l>Women and Wine should Life employ.</l>
                                        <l>Is there ought else on Earth desirous?</l>

                                        <stage>Chours.</stage>
                                        <sp>
                                            <p>Fill ev'ry Glass, &amp;c.</p>
                                        </sp>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="2">
                        <head>SCENE II</head>


                        <stage>To them enter Macheath.</stage>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Gentlemen, well met. My Heart hath been with you this Hour; but an
                                unexpected Affair hath detain'd me. No Ceremony, I beg you.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> We were just breaking up to go upon Duty. Am I to have the Honour of
                                taking the Air with you, Sir, this Evening upon the <placeName ref="#Hounslow">Heath</placeName>? I drink a
                                Dram now and then with the Stage-Coachmen in the way of Friendship
                                and Intelligence; and I know that about this Time there will be
                                Passengers upon the <placeName ref="#Western">Western Road</placeName>, who are worth speaking with.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> I was to have been of that Party----but----</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> But what, Sir?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Is there any man who suspects my Courage?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> We have all been witnesses of it.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> My Honour and Truth to the Gang?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> I'll be answerable for it.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> In the Division of our Booty, have I ever shown the least Marks of
                                Avarice or Injustice?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>By these Questions something seems to have ruffled you. Are any of us
                                suspected?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> I have a fixt Confidence, Gentlemen, in you all, as Men of Honour,
                                and as such I value and respect you. Peachum is a Man that is useful
                                to us.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Is he about to play us any foul Play? I'll shoot him through the
                                Head.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> I beg you, Gentlemen, act with Conduct and Discretion. A Pistol is
                                your last resort.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> He knows nothing of this Meeting.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Business cannot go on without him. He is a Man who knows the World,
                                and is a necessary Agent to us. We have had a slight Difference, and
                                till it is accommodated I shall be oblig'd to keep out of his way.
                                Any private Dispute of mine shall be of no ill consequence to my
                                Friends. You must continue to act under his Direction, for the
                                moment we break loose from him, our Gang is ruin'd.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> As a Bawd to a Whore, I grant you, he is to us of great
                                Convenience.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Make him believe I have quitted the Gang, which I can never do but
                                with Life. At our private Quarters I will continue to meet you. A
                                Week or so will probably reconcile us.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Matt of the Mint.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Your Instructions shall be observ'd. 'Tis now high time for us to
                                repair to our several Duties; so till the Evening at our Quarters in
                                <placeName ref="#Moorfields">Moor-fields</placeName> we bid you farewell.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> I shall wish my self with you. Success attend you.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>Sits down melancholy at the Table.</stage>




                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="20">
                                        <head>AIR XX. March in Rinaldo, with Drums and
                                            Trumpets.</head>


                                        <stage>Matt of the Mint.</stage>
                                        <l>Let us take the Road.</l>
                                        <l>Hark! I hear the sound of Coaches!</l>
                                        <l>The hour of Attack approaches,</l>
                                        <l>To your Arms, brave Boys, and load.</l>
                                        <l>See the Ball I hold!</l>
                                        <l>Let the Chymists toil like Asses,</l>
                                        <l>Our Fire their Fire surpasses,</l>
                                        <l>And turns all our Lead to Gold.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>The Gang, rang' d in the Front of the Stage, load their Pistols, and
                            stick them under their Girdles; then go off singing the first Part in
                            Chorus.</stage>
                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="3">
                        <head>SCENE III</head>

                        <stage>Macheath, Drawer.</stage>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What a Fool is a fond Wench! Polly is most confoundedly bit.----I
                                love the Sex. And a Man who loves Money, might as well be contented
                                with one Guinea, as I with one Woman. The Town perhaps hath been as
                                much oblig'd to me, for recruiting it with freehearted Ladies, as to
                                any Recruiting Officer in the Army. If it were not for us and the
                                other Gentlemen of the Sword, <placeName ref="#Drury">Drury-Lane</placeName> would be uninhabited.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="21">
                                        <head>AIR XXI. Would you have a Young Virgin, &amp;c.</head>

                                        <l>If the Heart of a Man is deprest with Cares,</l>
                                        <l>The Mist is dispell'd when a Woman appears;</l>
                                        <l>Like the Notes of a Fiddle, she sweetly, sweetly</l>
                                        <l>Raises the Spirits, and charms our Ears,</l>
                                        <l>Roses and Lillies her Cheeks disclose,</l>
                                        <l>But her ripe Lips are more sweet than those.</l>
                                        <l>Press her,</l>
                                        <l>Caress her</l>
                                        <l>With Blisses,</l>
                                        <l>Her Kisses</l>
                                        <l>Dissolve us in Pleasure, and soft Repose.</l>
                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <p>I must have Women. There is nothing unbends the Mind like them. Money
                                is not so strong a Cordial for the Time. Drawer.----[Enter
                                Drawer.]Is the Porter gone for all the Ladies, according to my
                                directions?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="D">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Drawer.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I expect him back every Minute. But you know, Sir, you sent him as
                                far as <placeName ref="#Hockley">Hockley in the Hole</placeName>,
                                for three of the Ladies, for one in <placeName ref="#Vinegar">Vinegar Yard</placeName>, and for the rest
                                of them somewhere about <placeName ref="#Lewkner">Lewkner's Lane</placeName>. Sure some of them are below,
                                for I hear the Barr Bell. As they come I will show them up. Coming,
                                Coming.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="4">
                        <head>SCENE IV.</head>


                        <stage>Macheath, Mrs. Coaxer, Dolly Trull, Mrs. Vixen, Betty Doxy, Jenny
                            Diver, Mrs. Slammekin, Suky Tawdry, and Molly Brazen.</stage>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Dear Mrs. Coaxer, you are welcome. You look charmingly to-day. I hope
                                you don't want the Repairs of Quality, and lay on Paint.----Dolly
                                Trull! kiss me, you Slut; are you as amorous as ever, Hussy? You are
                                always so taken up with stealing Hearts, that you don't allow your
                                self Time to steal any thing else.----Ah Dolly, thou wilt ever be a
                                Coquette!----Mrs. Vixen, I'm yours, I always lov'd a Woman of Wit
                                and Spirit; they make charming Mistresses, but plaguy
                                Wives.----Betty Doxy! Come hither, Hussy. Do you drink as hard as
                                ever? You had better stick to good wholesome Beer; for in troth,
                                Betty, Strong-Waters will in time ruin your Constitution. You should
                                leave those to your Betters.----What! and my pretty Jenny Diver too!
                                As prim and demure as ever! There is not any Prude, though ever so
                                high bred, hath a more sanctify'd Look, with a more mischievous
                                Heart. Ah! thou art a dear artful Hypocrite.----Mrs. Slammekin! as
                                careless and genteel as ever! all you fine Ladies, who know your own
                                Beauty, affect an Undress.----But see, here's Suky Tawdry come to
                                contradict what I was saying. Every thing she gets one way she lays
                                out upon her Back. Why, Suky, you must keep at least a dozen
                                Tally-men. Molly Brazen! [She kisses him.] That's well done. I love
                                a free-hearted Wench. Thou hast a most agreeable Assurance, Girl,
                                and art as willing as a Turtle.----But hark! I hear musick. The
                                Harper is at the Door. If Musick be the Food of Love, play on. E'er
                                you seat your selves, Ladies, what think you of a Dance? Come in.
                                [Enter Harper.] Play the French Tune, that Mrs. Slammekin was so
                                fond of.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>[A Dance a la ronde in the French Manner; near the End of it this
                            Song and Chorus.]</stage>

                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="22">
                                        <head>AIR XXII. Cotillon.</head>

                                        <l>Youth's the Season made for Joys,</l>
                                        <l>Love is then our Duty,</l>
                                        <l>She alone who that employs,</l>
                                        <l>Well deserves her Beauty.</l>
                                        <l>Let's be gay,</l>
                                        <l>While we may,</l>
                                        <l>Beauty's a Flower, despis'd in decay.</l>
                                        <l>Youth's the Season &amp;c.</l>

                                        <l>Let us drink and sport to-day,</l>
                                        <l>Ours is not to-morrow.</l>
                                        <l>Love with Youth flies swift away,</l>
                                        <l> Age is nought but Sorrow.</l>
                                        <l>Dance and sing,</l>
                                        <l>Time's on the Wing,</l>
                                        <l>Life never knows the return of Spring.</l>
                                        <stage>Chorus .</stage>
                                        <l>Let us drink &amp;c.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Now, pray Ladies, take your Places. Here Fellow, [Pays the Harper.]
                                Bid the Drawer bring us more Wine. [Exit Harper.] If any of the
                                Ladies chuse Ginn, I hope they will be so free to call for it.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="JD">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Jenny Diver.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> You look as if you meant me. Wine is strong enough for me. Indeed,
                                Sir, I never drink Strong-Waters, but when I have the Cholic.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Just the Excuse of the fine Ladies! Why, a Lady of Quality is never
                                without the Cholic. I hope, Mrs. Coaxer, you have had good Success
                                of late in your Visits among the Mercers.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MC">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Coaxer.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> We have so many Interlopers----Yet with Industry, one may still have
                                a little Picking. I carried a silver flower'd Lutestring, and a
                                Piece of black Padesoy to Mr Peachum's Lock but last Week.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MV">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Vixen.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> There's Molly Brazen hath the Ogle of a Rattle-Snake. She rivetted a
                                Linnen-draper's Eye so fast upon her, that he was nick'd of three
                                Pieces of Cambric before he could look off.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MB">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Molly Brazen.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Oh dear Madam!----But sure nothing can come up to your handling of
                                Laces! And then you have such a sweet deluding Tongue! To cheat a
                                Man is nothing; but the Woman must have fine Parts indeed who cheats
                                a Woman!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MV">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs.Vixen.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Lace, Madam, lyes in a small Compass, and is of easy Conveyance. But
                                you are apt, Madam, to think too well of your Friends.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MC">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Coaxer.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> If any Woman hath more Art than another, to be sure, 'tis Jenny
                                Diver. Though her Fellow be never so agreeable, she can pick his
                                Pocket as cooly, as if Money were her only Pleasure. Now that is a
                                Command of the Passions uncommon in a Woman!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="JD">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Jenny Diver.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> I never go to the Tavern with a Man, but in the View of Business. I
                                have other Hours, and other sort of Men for my Pleasure. But had I
                                your Address, Madam----</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Have done with your Compliments, Ladies; and drink about: You are
                                not so fond of me, Jenny, as you use to be.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="JD">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Jenny Diver.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> 'Tis not convenient, Sir, to show my Fondness among so many Rivals.
                                'Tis your own Choice, and not the warmth of my Inclination that will
                                determine you.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="23">
                                        <head>AIR XXIII. All in a misty Morning, &amp;c.</head>



                                        <l>Before the Barn-door crowing,</l>
                                        <l>The Cock by Hens attended,</l>
                                        <l>His Eyes around him throwing,</l>
                                        <l>Stands for a while suspended.</l>
                                        <l>Then One he singles from the Crew,</l>
                                        <l>And cheers the happy Hen;</l>
                                        <l>With how do you do, and how do you do,</l>
                                        <l>And how do you do again.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>



                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Ah Jenny! thou art a dear Slut.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="DT2">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Dolly Trull.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Pray, Madam, were you ever in keeping?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="ST">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Suky Tawdry.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I hope, Madam, I ha'nt been so long upon the Town, but I have met
                                with some good Fortune as well as my Neighbours.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="DT2">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Dolly Trull.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Pardon me, Madam, I meant no harm by the Question; 'twas only in the
                                way of Conversation.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="ST">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Suky Tawdry.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Indeed, Madam, if I had not been a Fool, I might have liv'd very
                                handsomely with my last Friend. But upon his missing five Guineas,
                                he turn'd me off. Now I never suspected he had counted them.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MS">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Slammekin.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Who do you look upon, Madam, as your best sort of Keepers?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="DT2">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Dolly Trull.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>That, Madam, is thereafter as they be.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MS">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Slammekin.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I, Madam, was once kept by a Jew; and bating their Religion, to Women
                                they are a good sort of People.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="ST">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Suky Tawdry.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Now for my part, I own I like an old Fellow: for we always make them
                                pay for what they can't do.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MV">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Vixen.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>A spruce Prentice, let me tell you, Ladies, is no ill thing, they
                                bleed freely. I have sent at least two or three dozen of them in my
                                time to the <placeName ref="#Plantations">Plantations</placeName>.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="JD">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Jenny Diver.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But to be sure, Sir, with so much good Fortune as you have had upon
                                the Road, you must be grown immensely rich.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>The Road, indeed, hath done me justice, but the Gaming-Table hath
                                been my ruin.</p>
                        </sp>




                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="24">
                                        <head>AIR XXIV. When once I lay with another Man's Wife,
                                            &amp;c. </head>


                                        <stage>Jenny Diver.</stage>
                                        <l>The Gamesters and Lawyers are Jugglers alike,</l>
                                        <l>If they meddle your All is in danger.</l>
                                        <l>Like Gypsies, if once they can finger a Souse,</l>
                                        <l>Your Pockets they pick, and they pilfer your House,</l>
                                        <l>And give your Estate to a Stranger.</l>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>
                            <p>A Man of Courage should never put any Thing to the Risque, but his
                                Life. These are the Tools of a Man of Honour. Cards and Dice are
                                only fit for cowardly Cheats, who prey upon their Friends.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>[She takes up his Pistol. Tawdry takes up the other.</stage>

                        <sp who="ST">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">SUKY TAWDRY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>This, Sir, is fitter for your Hand. Besides your Loss of Money, 'tis
                                a Loss to the Ladies. Gaming takes you off from Women. How fond
                                could I be of you! but before Company, 'tis ill bred.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Wanton Hussies!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="JD">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">JENNY DIVER.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I must and will have a Kiss to give my Wine a zest.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>[They take him about the Neck, and make Signs to Peachum and
                            Constables, who rush in upon him.</stage>

                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="5">
                        <head>SCENE V.</head>



                        <stage>To them, Peachum and Constables.</stage>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I seize you, Sir, as my Prisoner.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Was this well done, Jenny?----Women are Decoy Ducks; who can trust
                                them! Beasts, Jades, Jilts, Harpies, Furies, Whores!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Your Case, Mr. Macheath, is not particular. The greatest Heroes have
                                been ruin'd by Women. But, to do them justice, I must own they are a
                                pretty sort of Creatures, if we could trust them. You must now, Sir,
                                take your leave of the Ladies, and if they have a Mind to make you a
                                Visit, they will be sure to find you at home. The Gentleman, Ladies,
                                lodges in <placeName ref="#Newgate">Newgate</placeName>. Constables, wait upon the Captain to his
                                Lodgings.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="25">
                                        <head>AIR XXV. When first I laid Siege to my Chloris,
                                            &amp;c. </head>





                                        <stage>Macheath .</stage>
                                        <l>At the Tree I shall suffer with pleasure,</l>
                                        <l>At the Tree I shall suffer with pleasure,</l>
                                        <l>Let me go where I will,</l>
                                        <l>In all kinds of Ill,</l>
                                        <l>I shall find no such Furies as these are.</l>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>


                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Ladies, I'll take care the Reckoning shall be discharg'd.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>[Exit Macheath, guarded with Peachum and Constables.</stage>

                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="6">
                        <head>SCENE VI.</head>



                        <stage>The Women remain.</stage>
                        <sp who="MV">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs.Vixen.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Look ye, Mrs. Jenny, though Mr. Peachum may have made a private
                                Bargain with you and Suky Tawdry for betraying the Captain, as we
                                were all assisting, we ought all to share alike.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MC">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Coaxer.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I think Mr. Peachum, after so long an acquaintance, might have
                                trusted me as well as Jenny Diver.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MS">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Slammekin.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I am sure at least three Men of his hanging, and in a Year's time
                                too, (if he did me justice) should be set down to my account.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="DT2">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Dolly Trull.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Mrs. Slammekin, that is not fair. For you know one of them was taken
                                in Bed with me.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="JD">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Jenny Diver.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>As far as a Bowl of Punch or a Treat, I believe Mrs. Suky will join
                                with me. ----As for any thing else, Ladies, you cannot in conscience
                                expect it.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MS">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Slammekin.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Dear Madam----</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="DT2">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Dolly Trull.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I would not for the World----</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MS">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Slammekin.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>'Tis impossible for me----</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="DT2">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Dolly Trull.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>As I hope to be sav'd, Madam----</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="MS">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Mrs. Slammekin.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Nay, then I must stay here all Night----</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="DT2">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Dolly Trull.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Since you command me.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>[Exeunt with great Ceremony.</stage>

                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="7">
                        <head>SCENE VII. <placeName ref="#Newgate">Newgate</placeName>.</head>


                        <stage>Lockit, Turnkeys, Macheath, Constables.</stage>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Noble Captain, you are welcome. You have not been a Lodger of mine
                                this Year and half. You know the custom, Sir. Garnish, Captain,
                                Garnish. Hand me down those Fetters there.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Those, Mr. Lockit, seem to be the heaviest of the whole sett. With
                                your leave, I should like the further pair better.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Look ye, Captain, we know what is fittest for our Prisoners. When a
                                Gentleman uses me with Civility, I always do the best I can to
                                please him.----Hand them down I say.----We have them of all Prices,
                                from one Guinea to ten, and 'tis fitting every Gentleman should
                                please himself.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I understand you, Sir. [Gives Money.] The Fees here are so many, and
                                so exorbitant, that few Fortunes can bear the Expence of getting off
                                handsomly, or of dying like a Gentleman.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Those, I see, will fit the Captain better.----Take down the further
                                Pair. Do but examine them, Sir.----Never was better work. How
                                genteely they are made!----They will sit as easy as a Glove, and the
                                nicest Man in England might not be asham'd to wear them. [He puts on
                                the Chains.] If I had the best Gentleman in the Land in my Custody I
                                could not equip him more handsomly. And so, Sir----I now leave you
                                to your private Meditations.</p>
                        </sp>


                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="8">
                        <head>SCENE VIII.</head>




                        <stage>Macheath.</stage>


                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="26">
                                        <head>AIR XXVI. Courtiers, Courtiers think it no harm,
                                            &amp;c. </head>



                                        <l>Man may escape from Rope and Gun;</l>
                                        <l>Nay, some have out-liv'd the Doctor's Pill;</l>
                                        <l>Who takes a Woman must be undone,</l>
                                        <l>That Basilisk is sure to kill.</l>
                                        <l>The Fly that sips Treacle is lost in the Sweets,</l>
                                        <l>So he that tastes Woman, Woman, Woman,</l>
                                        <l>He that tastes Woman, Ruin meets.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>
                        <sp>
                            <p>To what a woful plight have I brought my self! Here must I (all day
                                long, 'till I am hang'd) be confin'd to hear the Reproaches of a
                                Wench who lays her Ruin at my Door.----I am in the Custody of her
                                Father, and to be sure if he knows of the matter, I shall have a
                                fine time on't betwixt this and my Execution.----But I promis'd the
                                Wench Marriage.----What signifies a Promise to a Woman? Does not Man
                                in Marriage itself promise a hundred things that he never means to
                                perform? Do all we can, Women will believe us; for they look upon a
                                Promise as an Excuse for following their own Inclinations.----But
                                here comes Lucy, and I cannot get from her----Wou'd I were deaf!</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="9">
                        <head>SCENE IX.</head>


                        <stage>Macheath, Lucy.</stage>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>You base Man you,--how can you look me in the Face after what hath
                                past between us?----See here, perfidious Wretch, how I am forc'd to
                                bear about the load of Infamy you have laid upon me----O Macheath!
                                thou hast robb'd me of my Quiet----to see thee tortur'd would give
                                me pleasure.</p>
                        </sp>



                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="27">
                                        <head>AIR XXVII. A lovely Lass to a Friar came, &amp;c. </head>



                                        <l>Thus when a good Huswife sees a Rat</l>
                                        <l>In her Trap in the Morning taken,</l>
                                        <l>With pleasure her Heart goes pit a pat,</l>
                                        <l>In Revenge for her loss of Bacon.</l>
                                        <l>Then she throws him</l>
                                        <l>To the Dog or Cat,</l>
                                        <l>To be worried, crush'd and shaken.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Have you no Bowels, no Tenderness, my dear Lucy, to see a Husband in
                                these Circumstances?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>A Husband!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>In ev'ry respect but the Form, and that, my Dear, may be said over us
                                at any time.----Friends should not insist upon Ceremonies. From a
                                Man of Honour, his Word is as good as his Bond.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>'Tis the Pleasure of all you fine Men to insult the Women you have
                                ruin'd.</p>
                        </sp>



                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="28">
                                        <head>AIR XXVIII. 'Twas when the Sea was roaring, &amp;c. </head>



                                        <l>How cruel are the Traytors,</l>
                                        <l>Who lye and swear in jest,</l>
                                        <l>To cheat unguarded Creatures</l>
                                        <l>Of Virtue, Fame, and Rest!</l>
                                        <l>Whoever steals a Shilling,</l>
                                        <l>Through Shame the Guilt conceals:</l>
                                        <l>In Love the perjur'd Villain</l>
                                        <l>With Boasts the Theft reveals.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>The very first Opportunity, my Dear, (have but Patience) you shall be
                                my Wife in whatever manner you please.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Insinuating Monster! And so you think I know nothing of the Affair of
                                Miss Polly Peachum.----I could tear thy Eyes out!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Sure Lucy, you can't be such a Fool as to be jealous of Polly!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Are you not married to her, you Brute, you?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Married! Very good. The Wench gives it out only to vex thee, and to
                                ruin me in thy good Opinion. 'Tis true, I go to the House; I chat
                                with the Girl, I kiss her, I say a thousand things to her (as all
                                Gentlemen do) that mean nothing, to divert my self; and now the
                                silly Jade hath set it about that I am married to her, to let me
                                know what she would be at. Indeed, my dear Lucy, these violent
                                Passions may be of ill consequence to a Woman in your condition.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Come, come, Captain, for all your Assurance, you know that Miss Polly
                                hath put it out of your power to do me the Justice you promis'd
                                me.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>A jealous Woman believes ev'ry thing her Passion suggests. To
                                convince you of my Sincerity, if we can find the Ordinary, I shall
                                have no Scruples of making you my Wife; and I know the consequence
                                of having two at a time. </p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>That you are only to be hang'd, and so get rid of them both.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I am ready, my dear Lucy, to give you satisfaction----if you think
                                there is any in Marriage.----What can a Man of Honour say more?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>So then it seems, you are not married to Miss Polly.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>You know, Lucy, the Girl is prodigiously conceited. No Man can say a
                                civil thing to her, but (like other fine Ladies) her Vanity makes
                                her think he's her own for ever and ever.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="29">
                                        <head>AIR XXIX. The Sun had loos'd his weary Teams, &amp;c. </head>

                                        <l>The first time at the Looking-glass</l>
                                        <l>The Image strikes the smiling Lass</l>
                                        <l>With Self-love ever after.</l>
                                        <l>Each time she looks, she, fonder grown,</l>
                                        <l>Thinks ev'ry Charm grows stronger.</l>
                                        <l>But alas, vain Maid, all Eyes but your own</l>
                                        <l>Can see you are not younger.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>



                        <sp>
                            <p>When Women consider their own Beauties, they are all alike
                                unreasonable in their demands; for they expect their Lovers should
                                like them as long as they like themselves.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Yonder is my Father----perhaps this way we may light upon the
                                Ordinary, who shall try if you will be as good as your Word.----For
                                I long to be made an honest Woman.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="10">
                        <head>SCENE X.</head>



                        <stage>Peachum, Lockit with an Account-Book.</stage>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>In this last Affair, Brother Peachum, we are agreed. You have
                                consented to go halves in Macheath.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>We shall never fall out about an Execution.----But as to that
                                Article, pray how stands our last Year's account?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If you will run your Eye over it, you'll find 'tis fair and clearly
                                stated.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>This long Arrear of the Government is very hard upon us! Can it be
                                expected that we should hang our Acquaintance for nothing, when our
                                Betters will hardly save theirs without being paid for it. Unless
                                the People in employment pay better, I promise them for the future,
                                I shall let other Rogues live besides their own.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Perhaps, Brother, they are afraid these matters may be carried too
                                far. We are treated too by them with Contempt, as if our Profession
                                were not reputable.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>In one respect indeed, our Employment may be reckon'd dishonest,
                                because, like Great Statesmen, we encourage those who betray their
                                Friends.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Such Language, Brother, any where else, might turn to your prejudice.
                                Learn to be more guarded, I beg you.</p>
                        </sp>



                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="30">
                                        <head>AIR XXX. How happy are we, &amp;c. </head>



                                        <l>When you censure the Age,</l>
                                        <l>Be cautious and sage,</l>
                                        <l>Lest the Courtiers offended should be:</l>
                                        <l>If you mention Vice or Bribe,</l>
                                        <l>'Tis so pat to all the Tribe;</l>
                                        <l>Each crys----That was levell'd at me.</l>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>



                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Here's poor Ned Clincher's Name, I see. Sure, Brother Lockit, there
                                was a little unfair proceeding in Ned's case: for he told me in the
                                Condemn'd Hold, that for Value receiv'd, you had promis'd him a
                                Session or two longer without Molestation.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Mr. Peachum, --This is the first time my Honour was ever call'd in
                                Question.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Business is at an end----if once we act dishonourably.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Who accuses me?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>You are warm, Brother.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>He that attacks my Honour, attacks my Livelyhood.----And this
                                Usage----Sir----is not to be born.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Since you provoke me to speak----I must tell you too, that Mrs.
                                Coaxer charges you with defrauding her of her Information-Money, for
                                the apprehending of curl-pated Hugh. Indeed, indeed, Brother, we
                                must punctually pay our Spies, or we shall have no Information.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Is this Language to me, Sirrah----who have sav'd you from the
                                Gallows, Sirrah!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>[Collaring each other.</stage>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If I am hang'd, it shall be for ridding the World of an arrant
                                Rascal.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>This Hand shall do the office of the Halter you deserve, and throttle
                                you----you Dog!----</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Brother, Brother,--We are both in the Wrong----We shall be both
                                Losers in the Dispute----for you know we have it in our Power to
                                hang each other. You should not be so passionate.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Nor you so provoking.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>'Tis our mutual Interest; 'tis for the Interest of the World we
                                should agree. If I said any thing, Brother, to the Prejudice of your
                                Character, I ask pardon.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Brother Peachum----I can forgive as well as resent.----Give me your
                                Hand. Suspicion does not become a Friend.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I only meant to give you occasion to justifie yourself: But I must
                                now step home, for I expect the Gentleman about this Snuff-box, that
                                Filch nimm'd two Nights ago in the Park. I appointed him at this
                                hour.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="11">
                        <head>SCENE XI.</head>



                        <stage>Lockit, Lucy.</stage>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Whence come you, Hussy?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>My Tears might answer that Question.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>You have then been whimpering and fondling, like a Spaniel, over the
                                Fellow that hath abus'd you.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>One can't help Love; one can't cure it. 'Tis not in my Power to obey
                                you, and hate him.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Learn to bear your Husband's Death like a reasonable Woman. 'Tis not
                                the fashion, now-a-days, so much as to affect Sorrow upon these
                                Occasions. No Woman would ever marry, if she had not the Chance of
                                Mortality for a Release. Act like a Woman of Spirit, Hussy, and
                                thank your Father for what he is doing.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>

                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="31">
                                        <head>AIR XXXI. Of a noble Race was Shenkin. </head>


                                        <stage>Lucy.</stage>
                                        <l>Is then his Fate decreed, Sir?</l>
                                        <l>Such a Man can I think of quitting?</l>
                                        <l>When first we met, so moves me yet,</l>
                                        <l>O see how my Heart is splitting!</l>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lockit.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Look ye, Lucy----There is no saving him.----So, I think, you must
                                ev'n do like other Widows----Buy your self Weeds, and be
                                cheerful.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>
                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="32">
                                        <head>AIR XXXII. </head>



                                        <l>You'll think e'er many Days ensue</l>
                                        <l>This Sentence not severe;</l>
                                        <l>I hang your Husband, Child, 'tis true,</l>
                                        <l>But with him hang your Care.</l>
                                        <l>Twang dang dillo dee.</l>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>
                            <p>Like a good Wife, go moan over your dying Husband. That, Child, is
                                your Duty----Consider, Girl, you can't have the Man and the Money
                                too----so make yourself as easy as you can, by getting all you can
                                from him.</p>
                        </sp>


                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="12">
                        <head>SCENE XII.</head>




                        <stage>Lucy, Macheath.</stage>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Though the Ordinary was out of the way to-day, I hope, my Dear, you
                                will upon the first opportunity, quiet my Scruples----Oh Sir!----my
                                Father's hard Heart is not to be soften'd, and I am in the utmost
                                Despair.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But if I could raise a small Sum----Would not twenty Guineas, think
                                you, move him ?----Of all the Arguments in the way of Business, the
                                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 tim'd, and properly apply'd, will do any thing.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="33">
                                        <head>AIR XXXIII. London Ladies.</head>

                                        <l>If you at an Office solicit your Due,</l>
                                        <l>And would not have Matters neglected;</l>
                                        <l>You must quicken the Clerk with the Perquisite too,</l>
                                        <l>To do what his Duty directed.</l>
                                        <l>Or would you the Frowns of a Lady prevent,</l>
                                        <l>She too has this palpable Failing,</l>
                                        <l>The Perquisite softens her into Consent;</l>
                                        <l>That Reason with all is prevailing.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>


                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What Love or Money can do shall be done: for all my Comfort depends
                                upon your Safety.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="13">
                        <head>SCENE XIII.</head>


                        <stage>Lucy, Macheath, Polly.</stage>


                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Where is my dear Husband?----Was a Rope ever intended for this
                                Neck!----O let me throw my Arms about it, and throttle thee with
                                Love!----Why dost thou tum away from me?----'Tis thy Polly----'Tis
                                thy Wife.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Was ever such an unfortunate Rascal as I am!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Was there ever such another Villain!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>O Macheath! was it for this we parted ? Taken! Imprison'd! Try'd!
                                Hang'd!----cruel Reflection! I'll stay with thee 'till Death----no
                                Force shall tear thy dear Wife from thee now. ñWhat means my
                                Love?----Not one kind Word! not one kind Look! think what thy Polly
                                suffers to see thee in this Condition.</p>
                        </sp>




                        <sp>
                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="34">
                                        <head>AIR XXXIV. All in the Downs, &amp;c.</head>


                                        <l>Thus when the Swallow, seeking Prey,</l>
                                        <l>Within the Sash is closely pent,</l>
                                        <l>His Consort, with bemoaning Lay,</l>
                                        <l>Without sits pining for th' Event.</l>
                                        <l>Her chatt'ring Lovers all around her skim;</l>
                                        <l>She heeds them not (poor Bird!) her Soul's with him.</l>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>



                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I must disown her. [Aside.] The Wench is distracted.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Am I then bilk'd of my Virtue? Can I have no Reparation? Sure Men
                                were born to lye, and Women to believe them! O Villain! Villain!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Perfidious Wretch!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Barbarous Husband!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Hadst thou been hang'd five Months ago, I had been happy.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And I too----If you had been kind to me 'till Death, it would not
                                have vex'd me----And that's no very unreasonable Request, (though
                                from a Wife) to a Man who hath not above seven or eight Days to
                                live.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Art thou then married to another? Hast thou two Wives, Monster?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If Women's Tongues can cease for an Answer----hear me.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I won't.----Flesh and Blood can't bear my Usage.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Shall I not claim my own? Justice bids me speak.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>
                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="35">
                                        <head>AIR XXXV. Have you heard of a frolicksome Ditty,
                                            &amp;c.</head>





                                        <stage>Macheath .</stage>
                                        <l>How happy could I be with either,</l>
                                        <l>Were t'other dear Charmer away!</l>
                                        <l>But while you thus teaze me together,</l>
                                        <l>To neither a Word will I say;</l>
                                        <l>But tol de rol, &amp;c.</l>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>


                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Sure, my Dear, there ought to be some Preference shown 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!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>O Villain, Villain! thou hast deceiv'd 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.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>
                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="36">
                                        <head>AIR XXXVI. Irish Trot.</head>





                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>I'm bubbled.</l>

                                        <stage>Lucy.</stage>
                                        <l>---------------------I'm bubbled.</l>

                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>Oh how I am troubled!</l>

                                        <stage>Lucy.</stage>
                                        <l>Bambouzled, and bit!</l>

                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>----------------------------------My Distresses are
                                            doubled.</l>

                                        <stage>Lucy.</stage>
                                        <l>When you come to the Tree, should the Hangman refuse,</l>
                                        <l>These Fingers, with Pleasure, could fasten the Noose.</l>

                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>I'm bubbled, &amp;c.</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>


                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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 hang'd, 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.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And hast thou the Heart to persist in disowning me?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And hast thou the Heart to persist in persuading me that I am
                                married? Why, Polly, dost thou seek to aggravate my Misfortunes?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Really, Miss Peachum, you but expose yourself. Besides, 'tis
                                barbarous in you to worry a Gentleman in his Circumstances.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="37">
                                        <head>AIR XXXVII.</head>




                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>Cease your Funning;</l>
                                        <l>Force or Cunning</l>
                                        <l>Never shall my Heart trapan.</l>
                                        <l>All these Sallies</l>
                                        <l>Are but Malice</l>
                                        <l>To seduce my constant Man.</l>
                                        <l>'Tis most certain,</l>
                                        <l>By their flirting</l>
                                        <l>Women oft' have Envy shown;</l>
                                        <l>Pleas'd, to ruin</l>
                                        <l>Others wooing;</l>
                                        <l>Never happy in their own!</l>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>



                        <sp>
                            <p>Decency, Madam, methinks might teach you to behave yourself with some
                                Reserve with the Husband, while his Wife is present.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But seriously, Polly, this is carrying the Joke a little too far.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If you are determin'd, Madam, to raise a Disturbance in the Prison, I
                                shall be oblig'd to send for the Turnkey to show you the Door. I am
                                sorry, Madam, you force me to be so ill-bred.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>
                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="38">
                                        <head>AIR XXXVIII. Good-morrow, Gossip Joan.</head>





                                        <stage>Lucy.</stage>
                                        <l>Why how now, Madam Flirt?</l>
                                        <l>If you thus must chatter;</l>
                                        <l>And are for flinging Dirt,</l>
                                        <l>Let's try who best can spatter;</l>
                                        <l>Madam Flirt!</l>

                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>Why how now, saucy Jade;</l>
                                        <l>Sure the Wench is Tipsy!</l>
                                        <l>How can you see me made</l>
                                        <stage>[To him.</stage>
                                        <l>The Scoff of such a Gipsy?</l>
                                        <l>Saucy Jade!</l>
                                        <stage>[To her.</stage>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="14">
                        <head>SCENE XIV.</head>





                        <stage>Lucy, Macheath, Polly, Peachum</stage>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peachum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Where's my Wench? Ah Hussy! Hussy!----Come you home, you Slut; and
                                when your Fellow is hang'd, hang yourself, to make your Family some
                                amends.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Polly.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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!</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Peacnum.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Sure all Women are alike! If ever they commit the Folly, they are
                                sure to commit another by exposing themselves----Away----Not a Word
                                more----You are my Prisoner now, Hussy.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="39">
                                        <head>AIR XXXIX. Irish Howl.</head>




                                        <stage>Polly.</stage>
                                        <l>No Power on Earth can e'er divide,</l>
                                        <l>The Knot that Sacred Love hath ty'd.</l>
                                        <l>When Parents draw against our Mind,</l>
                                        <l>The True-love's Knot they faster bind.</l>
                                        <l>Oh, oh ray, oh Amborah----oh, oh, &amp;c.</l>
                                        <stage>[Holding Macheath, Peachum pulling her.</stage>


                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>


                    <div3 type="scene" n="15">
                        <head>SCENE XV.</head>



                        <stage>Lucy, Macheath.</stage>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I am naturally compassionate, Wife; so that I could not use the Wench
                                as she deserv'd; which made you at first suspect there was something
                                in what she said.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Indeed, my Dear, I was strangely puzzled.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If that had been the Case, her Father would never have brought me
                                into this Circumstance----No, Lucy,--I had rather dye than be false
                                to thee.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>How happy am I, if you say this from your Heart! For I love thee so,
                                that I could sooner bear to see thee hang'd than in the Arms of
                                another.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But couldst thou bear to see me hang'd?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>O Macheath, I can never live to see that Day.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>You see, Lucy; in the Account of Love you are in my debt, and you
                                must now be convinc'd, that I rather chuse 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.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If we are together, 'twill be impossible to lye conceal'd. As soon as
                                the Search begins to be a little cool, I will send to thee----'Till
                                then my Heart is thy Prisoner.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Lucy.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">Macheath.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>A Moment of time may make us unhappy for-ever.</p>
                        </sp>


                        <sp>
                            <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                                <body>
                                    <div type="song" n="40">
                                        <head>AIR XL. The Lass of Patie's Mill, &amp;c.</head>
                                        <stage>LUCY.</stage>
                                        <l>I like the Fox shall grieve,</l>
                                        <l>Whose Mate hath left her side,</l>
                                        <l>Whom Hounds, from Morn to Eve,</l>
                                        <l>Chase o'er the Country wide.</l>
                                        <l>Where can my Lover hide?</l>
                                        <l>Where cheat the weary Pack?</l>
                                        <l>If Love be not his Guide,</l>
                                        <l>He never will come back!</l>

                                    </div>
                                </body>
                            </floatingText>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>
                </div2>
                <div2 type="act">
                    <head>ACT III</head>

                    <div3 type="scene" n="1">
                        <head>SCENE I.</head>

                        <stage>SCENE <placeName ref="#Newgate">Newgate</placeName>.</stage>
                        <stage>LOCKIT, LUCY.</stage>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>To be sure, Wench, you must have been aiding and abetting to help him
                                to this Escape.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Sir, here hath been Peachum and his Daughter Polly, and to be sure
                                they know the Ways of <placeName ref="#Newgate">Newgate</placeName> as well as if they had been born and
                                bred in the Place all their Lives. Why must all your Suspicion light
                                upon me?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Lucy, Lucy, I will have none of these shuffling Answers.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Well thenIf I know any Thing of him I wish I may be burnt!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Keep your Temper, Lucy, or I shall pronounce you guilty.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Keep yours, Sir,--I do wish I may be burnt. I doAnd what can I say
                                more to convince you?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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 youPerhaps,
                                you have made a better Bargain with him than I could have done--How
                                much, my good Girl?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> You know, Sir, I am fond of him, and would have given Money to have
                                kept him with me.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Ah Lucy! thy Education might have put thee more upon thy Guard; for
                                a Girl in the Bar of an Ale-house is always besiegd.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Dear Sir, mention not my Educationfor twas to that I owe my
                                Ruin.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="41">
                                    <head>AIR XLI. If Loves a sweet Passion, &amp;c.</head>

                                    <l>When young at the Bar you first taught me to score,</l>
                                    <l>And bid me be free of my Lips, and no more;</l>
                                    <l>I was kissd by the Parson, the Squire, and the Sot.</l>
                                    <l>When the Guest was departed, the Kiss was forgot.</l>
                                    <l>But his Kiss was so sweet, and so closely he prest,</l>
                                    <l>That I languishd and pind till I granted the rest.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>


                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>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.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And so you have let him escape, HussyHave you?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>When a Woman loves; a kind Look, a tender Word can persuade her to
                                any thingAnd I could ask no other Bribe.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Thou wilt always be a vulgar Slut, Lucy.If you would not be lookd
                                upon as a Fool, you should never do any thing but upon the Foot of
                                Interest. Those that act otherwise are their own Bubbles.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But Love, Sir, is a Misfortune that may happen to the most discreet
                                Woman, and in Love we are all Fools alike.Notwithstanding all he
                                swore, I am now fully convincd 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.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>So I am to be ruind, because, forsooth, you must be in Love!a very
                                pretty Excuse!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I could murder that impudent happy Strumpet:--I gave him his Life,
                                and that Creature enjoys the Sweets of it.Ungrateful Macheath!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="42">
                                    <head>AIR XLII. South-Sea Ballad.</head>

                                    <l>My Love is all Madness and Folly,</l>
                                    <l>Alone I lye,</l>
                                    <l>Toss, tumble, and cry,</l>
                                    <l>What a happy Creature is Polly!</l>
                                    <l>Was eer such a Wretch as I!</l>
                                    <l>With Rage I redden like Scarlet,</l>
                                    <l>That my dear inconstant Varlet,</l>
                                    <l>Stark blind to my Charms,</l>
                                    <l>Is lost in the Arms</l>
                                    <l>Of that Jilt, that inveigling Harlot!</l>
                                    <l>Stark blind to my Charms,</l>
                                    <l>Is lost in the Arms</l>
                                    <l>Of that Jilt, that inveigling Harlot!</l>
                                    <l>This, this my Resentment alarms.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>


                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>And so, after all this Mischief, I must stay here to be entertaind
                                with your catterwauling, 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.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="2">
                        <head>SCENE II.</head>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Peachum then intends to outwit me in this Affair; but I'll be even
                                with him.The Dog is leaky in his Liquor, so Ill ply him that way,
                                get the Secret from him, and turn this Affair to my own
                                Advantage.Lions, Wolves, and Vulturs don't live together in Herds,
                                Droves or Flocks.Of all Animals of Prey, Man is the only sociable
                                one. Every one of us preys upon his Neighbour, and yet we herd
                                together.Peachum is my Companion, my FriendAccording to the Custom
                                of the World, indeed, he may quote thousands of Precedents for
                                cheating meAnd shall not I make use of the Privilege of Friendship
                                to make him a Return?</p>
                        </sp>
                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="43">
                                    <head>AIR XLIII. Packingtons Pound.</head>
                                    <l>Thus Gamesters united in Friendship are found,</l>
                                    <l>Though they know that their Industry all is a Cheat;</l>
                                    <l>They flock to their Prey at the Dice-Boxs Sound,</l>
                                    <l>And join to promote one anothers Deceit.</l>
                                    <l>But if by mishap</l>
                                    <l>They fail of a Chap,</l>
                                    <l>To keep in their Hands, they each other entrap.</l>
                                    <l>Like Pikes, lank with Hunger, who miss of their Ends,</l>
                                    <l>They bite their Companions, and prey on their Friends.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Now, Peachum, you and I, like honest Tradesmen, are to have a fair
                                Tryal which of us two can over-reach the other.Lucy.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>Enter Lucy.</stage>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Are there any of Peachums People now in the House?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Filch, Sir, is drinking a Quartern of Strong-Waters in the next Room
                                with Black Moll.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Bid him come to me.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>




                    <div3 type="scene" n="3">
                        <head>SCENE III.</head>


                        <stage>LOCKIT, FILCH.</stage>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Why, Boy, thou lookest as if thou wert half starvd; like a shotten
                                Herring.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">FILCH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>One had need have the Constitution of a Horse to go thorough the
                                Business.Since the favourite Child-getter was disabled by a Mis-hap,
                                I have pickd up a little Money by helping the Ladies to a Pregnancy
                                against their being calld down to Sentence.But if a Man cannot get
                                an honest Livelyhood any easier way, I am sure, tis what I cant
                                undertake for another Session.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Truly, if that great Man should tip off, twould be an irreparable
                                Loss. The Vigor and Prowess of a Knight-Errant never savd half the
                                Ladies in Distress that he hath done.But, Boy, canst thou tell me
                                where thy Master is to be found?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="F">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">FILCH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>At his Lock, Sir, at the Crooked Billet.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Very well.I have nothing more with you.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>Exit FILCH.</stage>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Ill go to him there, for I have many important Affairs to settle with
                                him; and in the way of those Transactions, Ill artfully get into his
                                Secret.So that Macheath shall not remain a Day longer out of my
                                Clutches.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>




                    <div3 type="scene" n="5">
                        <head>SCENE IV.</head>

                        <stage>A Gaming-House.</stage>

                        <stage>MACHEATH in a fine tarnish'd Coat, BEN BUDGE, MATT OF THE
                            MINT.</stage>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I am sorry, Gentlemen, the Road was so barren of Money. When my
                                Friends are in Difficulties, I am always glad that my Fortune can be
                                serviceable to them.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>Gives them Money.</stage>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>You see, Gentlemen, I am not a meer Court Friend, who professes every
                                thing and will do nothing.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="44">
                                    <head>AIR XLIV. Lillibullero.</head>

                                    <l>The Modes of the Court so common are grown,</l>
                                    <l>That a true Friend can hardly be met;</l>
                                    <l>Friendship for Interest is but a Loan,</l>
                                    <l>Which they let out for what they can get.</l>
                                    <l>Tis true, you find</l>
                                    <l>Some Friends so kind,</l>
                                    <l>Who will give you good Counsel themselves to defend.</l>
                                    <l>In sorrowful Ditty,</l>
                                    <l>They promise, they pity,</l>
                                    <l>But shift you for Money, from Friend to Friend.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But we, Gentlemen, have still Honour enough to break through the
                                Corruptions of the World.And while I can serve you, you may command
                                me.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="BB">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">BEN BUDGE.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>It grieves my Heart that so generous a Man should be involvd in such
                                Difficulties, as oblige him to live with such ill Company, and herd
                                with Gamesters.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MATT OF THE MINT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>See the Partiality of Mankind!One Man may steal a Horse, better than
                                another look over a HedgeOf all Mechanics, of all servile
                                Handycrafts-men, a Gamester is the vilest. But yet, as many of the
                                Quality are of the Profession, he is admitted amongst the politest
                                Company. I wonder we are not more respected.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>There will be deep Play to-night at <placeName ref="Marylebone"
                                    >Marybone</placeName>, and consequently Money may be pickd up
                                upon the Road. Meet me there, and Ill give you the Hint who is worth
                                Setting.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MATT OF THE MINT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>The Fellow with a brown Coat with a narrow Gold Binding, I am told,
                                is never without Money.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What do you mean, Matt?Sure you will not think of meddling with
                                him!Hes a good honest kind of a Fellow, and one of us.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="BB">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">BEN BUDGE.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>To be sure, Sir, we will put our selves under your Direction.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Have an Eye upon the Money-Lenders.A Rouleau, or two, would prove a
                                pretty sort of an Expedition. I hate Extortion.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MATT OF THE MINT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Those Rouleaus are very pretty Things. I hate your Bank Bills.There
                                is such a Hazard in putting them off.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>There is a certain Man of Distinction, who in his Time hath nickd me
                                out of a great deal of the Ready. He is in my Cash, Ben;--Ill point
                                him out to you this Evening, and you shall draw upon him for the
                                Debt.The Company are met; I hear the Dice-box in the other Room. So,
                                Gentlemen, your Servant. Youll meet me at <placeName
                                    ref="Marylebone">Marybone</placeName>.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="5">
                        <head>SCENE V.</head>

                        <stage>Peachum's Lock.</stage>

                        <stage>A Table with Wine, Brandy, Pipes and Tobacco.</stage>

                        <stage>PEACHUM, LOCKIT.</stage>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>The Coronation Account, Brother Peachum, is of so intricate a Nature,
                                that I believe it will never be settled.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>It consists indeed of a great Variety of Articles.It was worth to our
                                People, in Fees of different Kinds, above ten Instalments.This is
                                part of the Account, Brother, that lies open before us.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>A Ladys Tail of rich Brocadethat, I see, is disposd of.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>To Mrs. Diana Trapes, the Tally-woman, and she will make a good Hand
                                ont in Shoes and Slippers, to trick out young Ladies, upon their
                                going into Keeping.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But I dont see any Article of the Jewels.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Those are so well known, that they must be sent abroadYoull find them
                                enterd under the Article of Exportation.As for the Snuff-Boxes,
                                Watches, Swords, &amp;c.I thought it best to enter them under their
                                several Heads.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Seven and twenty Womens Pockets compleat; with the several things
                                therein containd; all Seald, Numberd, and enterd.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But, Brother, it is impossible for us now to enter upon this
                                Affair.We should have the whole Day before us.Besides, the Account
                                of the last Half Years Plate is in a Book by it self, which lies at
                                the other Office.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Bring us then more Liquor.To-day shall be for PleasureTo-morrow for
                                Business.Ah Brother, those Daughters of ours are two slippery
                                HussiesKeep a watchful Eye upon Polly, and Macheath in a Day or two
                                shall be our own again.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="45">
                                    <head>AIR XLV. Down in the North Country, &amp;c.</head>

                                    <l>What Gudgeons are we Men!</l>
                                    <l>Evry Womans easy Prey.</l>
                                    <l>Though we have felt the Hook, agen</l>
                                    <l>We bite and they betray.</l>

                                    <l>The Bird that hath been trapt,</l>
                                    <l>When he hears his calling Mate,</l>
                                    <l>To her he flies, again hes clapt</l>
                                    <l>Within the wiry Grate.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But what signifies catching the Bird, if your Daughter Lucy will set
                                open the Door of the Cage?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>If Men were answerable for the Follies and Frailties of their Wives
                                and Daughters, no Friends could keep a good Correspondence together
                                for two Days.This is unkind of you, Brother; for among good Friends,
                                what they say or do goes for nothing</p>
                        </sp>


                        <stage>Enter a SERVANT.</stage>

                        <sp who="S">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">SERVANT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Sir, heres Mrs. Diana Trapes wants to speak with you.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Shall we admit her, Brother Lockit?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>By all meansShes a good Customer, and a fine-spoken WomanAnd a Woman
                                who drinks and talks so freely, will enliven the Conversation.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Desire her to walk in.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>Exit SERVANT.</stage>

                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="6">
                        <head>SCENE VI.</head>

                        <stage>PEACHUM, LOCKIT, MRS TRAPES.</stage>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Dear Mrs. Dye, your ServantOne may know by your Kiss, that your Ginn
                                is excellent.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="DT1">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MRS TRAPES.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I was always very curious in my Liquors.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> There is no perfumd Breath like itI have been long acquainted with
                                the Flavour of those LipsHant I, Mrs. Dye?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="DT1">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MRS TRAPES.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Fill it up.I take as large Draughts of Liquor, as I did of Love.I
                                hate a Flincher in either.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="46">
                                    <head>AIR XLVI. A Shepherd kept Sheep, &amp;c.</head>

                                    <l>In the Days of my Youth I could bill like a Dove, fa, la, la,
                                        &amp;c.</l>
                                    <l>Like a Sparrow at all times was ready for Love, fa, la, la,
                                        &amp;c.</l>
                                    <l>The Life of all Mortals in Kissing should pass,</l>
                                    <l>Lip to Lip while were youngthen the Lip to the Glass, fa,
                                        &amp;c.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>
                        <sp who="DT1">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MRS TRAPES.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But now, Mr. Peachum, to our Business.If you have Blacks of any kind,
                                brought in of late; MantoesVelvet ScarfsPetticoatsLet it be what it
                                willI am your Chapfor all my Ladies are very fond of Mourning.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Why, look ye, Mrs. Dyeyou deal so hard with us, that we can afford to
                                give the Gentlemen, who venture their Lives for the Goods, little or
                                nothing.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="DT1">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MRS TRAPES.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>The hard Times oblige me to go very near in my Dealing.To be sure, of
                                late Years I have been a great Sufferer by the Parliament.Three
                                thousand Pounds would hardly make me amends.The Act for destroying
                                the <placeName ref="#Mint">Mint</placeName>, was a severe Cut upon our BusinessTill then, if a Customer
                                stept out of the way we knew where to have herNo doubt you know Mrs.
                                Coaxertheres a Wench now (till to-day) with a good Suit of Cloaths
                                of mine upon her Back, and I could never set Eyes upon her for three
                                Months together.Since the Act too against Imprisonment for small
                                Sums, my Loss there too hath been very considerable, and it must be
                                so, when a Lady can borrow a handsome Petticoat, or a clean Gown,
                                and I not have the least Hank upon her! And, o my Conscience,
                                now-a-days most Ladies take a Delight in cheating, when they can do
                                it with Safety.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Madam, you had a handsome Gold Watch of us tother Day for seven
                                Guineas.Considering we must have our ProfitTo a Gentleman upon the
                                Road, a Gold Watch will be scarce worth the taking.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MRS TRAPES. </hi></speaker>
                            <p>Consider, Mr. Peachum, that Watch was remarkable, and not of very
                                safe Sale.If you have any black Velvet Scarfsthey are a handsome
                                Winter-wear; and take with most Gentlemen who deal with my
                                Customers.Tis I that put the Ladies upon a good Foot. Tis not Youth
                                or Beauty that fixes their Price. The Gentlemen always pay according
                                to their Dress, from half a Crown to two Guineas; and yet those
                                Hussies make nothing of bilking of me.Then too, allowing for
                                Accidents.I have eleven fine Customers now down under the Surgeons
                                Hands,--what with Fees and other Expences, there are great
                                Goings-out, and no Comings-in, and not a Farthing to pay for at
                                least a Months cloathing.We run great Risquesgreat Risques
                                indeed.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>As I remember, you said something just now of Mrs. Coaxer.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MRS TRAPES. </hi></speaker>
                            <p>Yes, Sir.To be sure I stript her of a Suit of my own Cloaths about
                                two hours ago; and have left her as she should be, in her Shift,
                                with a Lover of hers at my House. She calld him up Stairs, as he was
                                going to <placeName ref="Marylebone">Marybone</placeName> in a
                                Hackney Coach.And I hope, for her own sake and mine, she will
                                perswade the Captain to redeem her, for the Captain is very generous
                                to the Ladies.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>What Captain?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="DT1">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MRS TRAPES.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> He thought I did not know himAn intimate Acquaintance of yours, Mr.
                                PeachumOnly Captain Macheathas fine as a Lord.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>To-morrow, dear Mrs. Dye, you shall set your own Price upon any of
                                the Goods you likeWe have at least half a dozen Velvet Scarfs, and
                                all at your service. Will you give me leave to make you a Present of
                                this Suit of Nightcloaths for your own wearing ?But are you sure it
                                is Captain Macheath?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="DT1">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MRS TRAPES.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Though he thinks I have forgot him; no Body knows him better. I have
                                taken a great deal of the Captains Money in my Time at second-hand,
                                for he always lovd to have his Ladies well drest.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Mr. Lockit and I have a little business with the Captain;--You
                                understand meand we will satisfye you for Mrs. Coaxer's Debt.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Depend upon itwe will deal like Men of Honour.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="DT1">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MRS TRAPES.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I dont enquire after your Affairsso whatever happens, I wash my Hands
                                ont.It hath always been my Maxim, that one Friend should assist
                                anotherBut if you pleaseIll take one of the Scarfs home with me, Tis
                                always good to have something in Hand.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="7">
                        <head>SCENE VII.</head>

                        <stage><placeName ref="#Newgate">Newgate</placeName>.</stage>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Jealousy, Rage, Love and Fear are at once tearing me to pieces. How
                                I am weather-beaten and shatterd with distresses! </p>
                        </sp>
                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="47">
                                    <head>AIR XLVII. One Evening, having lost my Way, &amp;c.</head>

                                    <l>Im like a Skiff on the Ocean tost,</l>
                                    <l>Now high, now low, with each Billow born,</l>
                                    <l>With her Rudder broke, and her Anchor lost,</l>
                                    <l>Deserted and all forlorn.</l>
                                    <l>While thus I lye rolling and tossing all Night,</l>
                                    <l>That Polly lyes sporting on Seas of Delight!</l>
                                    <l>Revenge, Revenge, Revenge,</l>
                                    <l>Shall appease my restless Sprite.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>I have the Rats-bane ready.I run no Risque; for I can lay her Death
                                upon the Ginn, and so many dye of that naturally that I shall never
                                be calld in Question.But say, I were to be hangdI never could be
                                hangd for any thing that would give me greater Comfort, than the
                                poysoning that Slut.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>Enter FILCH.</stage>

                        <sp>
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">FILCH. </hi></speaker>
                            <p> Madam, heres our Miss Polly come to wait upon you.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Show her in.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="8">
                        <head>SCENE VIII.</head>

                        <stage>LUCY, POLLY.</stage>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Dear Madam, your Servant.I hope you will pardon my Passion, when I
                                was so happy to see you last.I was so over-run with the Spleen, that
                                I was perfectly out of my self. And really when one hath the Spleen,
                                every thing is to be excusd by a Friend.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="48">
                                    <head>AIR XLVIII. Now Roger, Ill tell thee, because thourt my
                                        Son.</head>

                                    <l>When a Wifes in her Pout,</l>
                                    <l>(As shes sometimes, no doubt;)</l>
                                    <l>The good Husband as meek as a Lamb,</l>
                                    <l>Her Vapours to still,</l>
                                    <l>First grants her her Will,</l>
                                    <l>And the quieting Draught is a Dram.</l>
                                    <l>Poor Man! And the quieting Draught is a Dram.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> --I wish all our Quarrels might have so comfortable a
                                Reconciliation.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> I have no Excuse for my own Behaviour, Madam, but my Misfortunes.And
                                really, Madam, I suffer too upon your Account.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> But, Miss Pollyin the way of Friendship, will you give me leave to
                                propose a Glass of Cordial to you?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Strong-Waters are apt to give me the Head-acheI hope, Madam, you
                                will excuse me.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> 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.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> 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 hauld me away so unexpectedlyI was
                                indeed somewhat provokd, and perhaps might use some Expressions that
                                were disrespectful.But really, Madam, the Captain treated me with so
                                much Contempt and Cruelty, that I deservd your Pity, rather than
                                your Resentment.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> 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.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> 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
                                wellso that I must expect to be neglected and avoided.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Then our Cases, my dear Polly, are exactly alike. Both of us indeed
                                have been too fond.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="49">
                                    <head>AIR XLIX. O Bessy Bell.</head>


                                    <l>POLLY.A Curse attends that Woman's Love,</l>
                                    <l>Who always would be pleasing.</l>
                                    <l>LUCY.The Pertness of the billing Dove,</l>
                                    <l>Like tickling, is but teazing.</l>

                                    <l>POLLY. What then in Love can Woman do?</l>
                                    <l>LUCY.If we grow fond they shun us.</l>
                                    <l>POLLY.And when we fly them, they pursue.</l>
                                    <l>LUCY.But leave us when theyve won us.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Love is so very whimsical in both Sexes, that it is impossible to be
                                lasting.But my Heart is particular, and contradicts my own
                                Observation.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> But really, Mistress Lucy, by his last Behaviour, I think I ought to
                                envy you.When I was forcd from him, he did not shew the least
                                Tenderness.But perhaps, he hath a Heart not capable of it.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="50">
                                    <head>AIR L. Would Fate to me Belinda give</head>

                                    <l>Among the Men, Coquets we find,</l>
                                    <l>Who Court by turns all Woman-kind;</l>
                                    <l>And we grant all their Hearts desird,</l>
                                    <l>When they are flatterd, and admird.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> The Coquets of both Sexes are Self-lovers, and that is a Love no
                                other whatever can dispossess. I fear, my dear Lucy, our Husband is
                                one of those.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Away with these melancholy Reflections,--indeed, my dear Polly, we
                                are both of us a Cup too low.Let me prevail upon you, to accept of
                                my Offer.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="51">
                                    <head>AIR LI. Come, sweet Lass, &amp;c.</head>

                                    <l>Come, sweet Lass,</l>
                                    <l>Lets banish Sorrow</l>
                                    <l>Till To-morrow;</l>
                                    <l>Come, sweet Lass,</l>
                                    <l>Lets take a chirping Glass.</l>
                                    <l>Wine can clear</l>
                                    <l>The Vapours of Despair;</l>
                                    <l>And make us light as Air;</l>
                                    <l>Then drink, and banish Care.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>
                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> I cant bear, Child, to see you in such low Spirits.And I must
                                persuade you to what I know will do you good. (Aside.) I shall now
                                soon be even with the hypocritical Strumpet. </p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="9">
                        <head>SCENE IX.</head>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> All this wheedling of Lucy cannot be for nothing.At this time too!
                                when I know she hates me!The Dissembling of a Woman is always the
                                Fore-runner of Mischief.By pouring Strong-Waters down my Throat, she
                                thinks to pump some Secrets out of me.Ill be upon my Guard, and wont
                                taste a Drop of her Liquor, Im resolvd.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="10">
                        <head>SCENE X.</head>

                        <stage>LUCY, with Strong-Waters. POLLY.</stage>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Come, Miss Polly.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Indeed, Child, you have given yourself trouble to no purpose.You
                                must, my Dear, excuse me.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Really, Miss Polly, you are so squeamishly affected about taking a
                                Cup of Strong-Waters as a Lady before Company. I vow, Polly, I shall
                                take it monstrously ill if you refuse me.Brandy and Men (though
                                Women love them never so well) are always taken by us with some
                                Reluctanceunless tis in private.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> I protest, Madam, it goes against me.What do I see! Macheath again
                                in Custody!Now every glimmring of Happiness is lost.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>Drops the Glass of Liquor on the Ground.</stage>


                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> (Aside.) Since things are thus, I'm glad the Wench hath escap'd: for
                                by this Event, 'tis plain, she was not happy enough to deserve to be
                                poison'd.</p>
                        </sp>


                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="11">
                        <head>SCENE XI.</head>

                        <stage>LOCKIT, MACHEATH, PEACHUM, LUCY, POLLY.</stage>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Set your Heart to rest, Captain.You have neither the Chance of Love
                                or Money for another Escape,--for you are order'd to be calld down
                                upon your Tryal immediately.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Away, Hussies!This is not a time for a Man to be hamper'd with his
                                Wives.You see, the Gentleman is in Chains already.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> O Husband, Husband, my Heart long'd to see thee; but to see thee
                                thus distracts me!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Will not my dear Husband look upon his Polly? Why hadst thou not
                                flown to me for Protection? with me thou hadst been safe.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="52">
                                    <head>AIR LII. The last time I went o'er the Moor.</head>

                                    <l>POLLY. Hither, dear Husband, turn your Eyes.</l>
                                    <l>LUCY. Bestow one Glance to cheer me.</l>
                                    <l>POLLY. Think with that Look, thy Polly dyes.</l>
                                    <l>LUCY. O shun me notbut hear me.</l>
                                    <l>POLLY. Tis Polly sues.</l>
                                    <l>LUCY. -----Tis Lucy speaks.</l>
                                    <l>POLLY. Is thus true Love requited?</l>
                                    <l>LUCY. My Heart is bursting.</l>
                                    <l>POLLY. ------Mine too breaks.</l>
                                    <l>LUCY. Must I</l>
                                    <l>POLLY. -----Must I be slighted?</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> What would you have me say, Ladies ?You see, this Affair will soon
                                be at an end, without my disobliging either of you.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> But the settling this Point, Captain, might prevent a Law-suit
                                between your two Widows.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="53">
                                    <head>AIR LIII. Tom Tinkers my true Love.</head>

                                    <l>MACHEATH. Which way shall I turn me?How can I decide?</l>
                                    <l>Wives, the Day of our Death, are as fond as a Bride.</l>
                                    <l>One Wife is too much for most Husbands to hear,</l>
                                    <l>But two at a time theres no Mortal can bear.</l>
                                    <l>This way, and that way, and which way I will,</l>
                                    <l>What would comfort the one, tother Wife would take ill.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> But if his own Misfortunes have made him insensible to mineA Father
                                sure will be more compassionate.Dear, dear Sir, sink the material
                                Evidence, and bring him off at his TryalPolly upon her Knees begs it
                                of you.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="54">
                                    <head>AIR LIV. I am a poor Shepherd undone.</head>

                                    <l>When my Hero in Court appears,</l>
                                    <l>And stands arraignd for his Life;</l>
                                    <l>Then think of poor Pollys Tears;</l>
                                    <l>For Ah! Poor Pollys his Wife.</l>
                                    <l>Like the Sailor he holds up his Hand,</l>
                                    <l>Distrest on the dashing Wave.</l>
                                    <l>To die a dry Death at Land,</l>
                                    <l>Is as bad as a watry Grave.</l>
                                    <l>And alas, poor Polly!</l>
                                    <l>Alack, and well-a-day!</l>
                                    <l>Before I was in Love,</l>
                                    <l>Oh! every Month was May.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> If Peachum's Heart is hardend; sure you, Sir, will have more
                                Compassion on a Daughter.I know the Evidence is in your Power.How
                                then can you be a Tyrant to me?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>Kneeling.</stage>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="55">
                                    <head>AIR LV. Ianthe the lovely, &amp;c.</head>

                                    <l>When he holds up his Hand arraignd for his Life,</l>
                                    <l>O think of your Daughter, and think Im his Wife!</l>
                                    <l>What are Cannons, or Bombs, or clashing of Swords?</l>
                                    <l>For Death is more certain by Witnesses Words.</l>
                                    <l>Then nail up their Lips; that dread Thunder allay;</l>
                                    <l>And each Month of my Life will hereafter be May.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Macheaths time is come, Lucy.We know our own Affairs, therefore let
                                us have no more Whimpering or Whining.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="56">
                                    <head>AIR LVI. A Cobler there was, &amp;c.</head>

                                    <l>Our selves, like the Great, to secure a Retreat,</l>
                                    <l>When Matters require it, must give up our Gang:</l>
                                    <l>And good reason why,</l>
                                    <l>Or, instead of the Fry,</l>
                                    <l>Evn Peachum and I,</l>
                                    <l>Like poor petty Rascals, might hang, hang;</l>
                                    <l>Like poor petty Rascals, might hang.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>
                        <sp who="P">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PEACHUM.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Set your Heart at rest, Polly. Your Husband is to dye
                                to-day.Therefore, if you are not already provided, tis high time to
                                look about for another. Theres Comfort for you, you Slut.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="L">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LOCKIT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> We are ready, Sir, to conduct you to the <placeName ref="#Bailey">Old-Baily</placeName>.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="57">
                                    <head>AIR LVII. Bonny Dundee.</head>

                                    <l>MACHEATH. The Charge is prepar d; The Lawyers are met,</l>
                                    <l>The Judges all rangd (a terrible Show!)</l>
                                    <l>I go, undismayd.For Death is a Debt,</l>
                                    <l>A Debt on demand.So, take what I owe.</l>
                                    <l>Then farewell, my LoveDear Charmers, adieu.</l>
                                    <l>Contented I dieTis the better for you.</l>
                                    <l>Here ends all Dispute the rest of our Lives.</l>
                                    <l>For this way at once I please all my Wives.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Now, Gentlemen, I am ready to attend you.</p>
                        </sp>

                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="12">
                        <head>SCENE XII.</head>

                        <stage>LUCY, POLLY, FILCH.</stage>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Follow them, Filch, to the Court. And when the Tryal is over, bring
                                me a particular Account of his Behaviour, and of every thing that
                                happend.Youll find me here with Miss Lucy.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>Exit FILCH</stage>
                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>But why is all this Musick?</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> The Prisoners, whose Tryals are put off till next Session, are
                                diverting themselves.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Sure there is nothing so charming as Musick! I'm fond of it to
                                distraction!But alas!now, all Mirth seems an Insult upon my
                                Affliction.Let us retire, my dear Lucy, and indulge our Sorrows.The
                                noisy Crew, you see, are coming upon us.</p>
                        </sp>
                        <stage>(Exeunt.)</stage>

                        <stage>A Dance of Prisoners in Chains, &amp;c.</stage>

                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="13">
                        <head>SCENE XIII.</head>

                        <stage>The Condemnd Hold.</stage>

                        <stage>MACHEATH, in a melancholy Posture.</stage>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="58">
                                    <head>AIR LVIII. Happy Groves.</head>

                                    <l>O cruel, cruel, cruel Case!</l>
                                    <l>Must I suffer this Disgrace?</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="59">
                                    <head>AIR LIX. Of all the Girls that are so smart.</head>

                                    <l>Of all the Friends in time of Grief,</l>
                                    <l>When threatning Death looks grimmer,</l>
                                    <l>Not one so sure can bring Relief,</l>
                                    <l>As this best Friend, a Brimmer.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <stage>(Drinks.)</stage>


                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="60">
                                    <head>AIR LX. Britons strike home.</head>

                                    <l>Since I must swing,--I scorn, I scorn to wince or whine.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <stage>(Rises.)</stage>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="61">
                                    <head>AIR LXI. Chevy Chase.</head>

                                    <l>But now again my Spirits sink;</l>
                                    <l>Ill raise them high with Wine.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <stage>(Drinks a Glass of Wine.)</stage>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="62">
                                    <head>AIR LXII. To old Sir Simon the King.</head>

                                    <l>But Valour the stronger grows,</l>
                                    <l>The stronger Liquor were drinking.</l>
                                    <l>And how can we feel our Woes,</l>
                                    <l>When weve lost the Trouble of Thinking? </l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <stage>(Drinks.)</stage>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="63">
                                    <head>AIR LXIII. Joy to great Caesar.</head>

                                    <l>If thusA Man can die</l>
                                    <l>Much bolder with Brandy.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <stage>(Pours out a Bumper of Brandy.)</stage>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="64">
                                    <head>AIR LXIV. There was an Old Woman.</head>

                                    <l>So I drink off this Bumper.And now I can stand the Test.</l>
                                    <l>And my Comrades shall see, that I die as brave as the
                                        Best.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <stage>(Drinks.)</stage>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="65">
                                    <head>AIR LXV. Did you ever hear of a gallant Sailor.</head>

                                    <l>But can I leave my pretty Hussies,</l>
                                    <l>Without one Tear, or tender Sigh?</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>


                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="66">
                                    <head>AIR LXVI. Why are mine Eyes still flowing.</head>

                                    <l>Their Eyes, their Lips, their Busses</l>
                                    <l>Recall my Love.Ah must I die! </l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>


                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="67">
                                    <head>AIR LXVII. Green Sleeves.</head>

                                    <l>Since Laws were made for evry Degree,</l>
                                    <l>To curb Vice in others, as well as me,</l>
                                    <l>I wonder we hant better Company,</l>
                                    <l>Upon <placeName ref="#Tyburn">Tyburn Tree</placeName>!</l>
                                    <l>But Gold from Law can take out the Sting;</l>
                                    <l>And if rich Men like us were to swing,</l>
                                    <l>Twoud thin the Land, such Numbers to string</l>
                                    <l>Upon <placeName ref="#Tyburn">Tyburn Tree</placeName>!</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>


                        <stage>(Enter JAILOR.)</stage>

                        <sp who="J">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">JAILOR.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Some Friends of yours, Captain, desire to be admitted.I leave you
                                together.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="14">
                        <head>SCENE XIV.</head>

                        <stage>MACHEATH, BEN BUDGE, MATT OF THE MINT.</stage>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> For my having broke Prison, you see, Gentlemen, I am orderd
                                immediate Execution.The Sheriffs Officers, I believe, are now at the
                                Door.That Jemmy Twitcher should peach me, I own surprizd 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.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MATT OF THE MINT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> We are heartily sorry, Captain, for your Misfortune.But tis what we
                                must all come to.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> 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.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="MM">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MATT OF THE MINT.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Well dot.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>(Enter JAILOR.)</stage>

                        <sp who="J">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">JAILOR.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Miss Polly and Miss Lucy intreat a Word with you.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Gentlemen, adieu.</p>
                        </sp>


                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="15">
                        <head>SCENE XV.</head>

                        <stage>LUCY, MACHEATH, POLLY.</stage>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> My dear LucyMy dear PollyWhatsoever hath past between us is now at
                                an end.If you are fond of marrying again, the best Advice I can give
                                you, is to Ship yourselves off for the West-Indies, where you'll
                                have a fair chance of getting a Husband a-piece; or by good Luck,
                                two or three, as you like best.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PP">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">POLLY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> How can I support this Sight!</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="LL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">LUCY.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> There is nothing moves one so much as a great Man in Distress.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="68">
                                    <head>AIR LXVIII. All you that must take a Leap, &amp;c.</head>

                                    <l>LUCY. Would I might be hangd!</l>
                                    <l>POLLY. ----------------------------------------And I would so
                                        too!</l>
                                    <l>LUCY. To be hangd with you.</l>
                                    <l>POLLY. ------------------------------------My Dear, with
                                        you.</l>
                                    <l>MACHEATH. O Leave me to Thought! I fear! I doubt!</l>
                                    <l>I tremble! I droop!See, my Courage is out.</l>
                                </div>
                                <div>
                                    <stage>(Turns up the empty Bottle.)</stage>
                                </div>
                                <div type="song" n="68">
                                    <l>POLLY. No token of Love?</l>
                                    <l>MACHEATH. -------------------------------See, my Courage is
                                        out.</l>
                                </div>
                                <div>
                                    <stage>(Turns up the empty Pot.)</stage>
                                </div>
                                <div type="song" n="68">
                                    <l>LUCY. No token of Love?</l>
                                    <l>POLLY. ------------------------------Adieu.</l>
                                    <l>LUCY. ------------------------------------------Farewell.</l>
                                    <l>MACHEATH. But hark! I hear the Toll of the Bell.</l>
                                    <l>CHORUS. Tal de rol lol, &amp;c.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>


                        <stage>(Enter JAILOR.)</stage>

                        <sp who="J">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">JAILOR.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Four Women more, Captain, with a Child a-peice! See, here they
                                come.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>(Enter Women and Children.)</stage>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Whatfour Wives more!This is too much.Heretell the Sheriffs Officers
                                I am ready.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>(Exit MACHEATH guarded.)</stage>

                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="16">
                        <head>SCENE XVI.</head>

                        <stage>To them, Enter PLAYER and BEGGAR.</stage>

                        <sp who="PL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PLAYER.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> But, honest Friend, I hope you dont intend that Macheath shall be
                                really executed.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="BG">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">BEGGAR.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Most certainly, Sir.To make the Piece perfect, I was for doing
                                strict poetical Justice.Macheath is to be hangd; and for the other
                                Personages of the Drama, the Audience must have supposd they were
                                all either hangd or transported.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PLAYER.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Why then, Friend, this is a down-right deep Tragedy. The Catastrophe
                                is manifestly wrong, for an Opera must end happily.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="BG">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">BEGGAR.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Your Objection, Sir, is very just; and is easily removd. For you
                                must allow, that in this kind of Drama, tis no matter how absurdly
                                things are brought about.Soyou Rabble thererun and cry a Reprievelet
                                the Prisoner be brought back to his Wives in Triumph.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="PL">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">PLAYER.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> All this we must do, to comply with the Taste of the Town.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="BG">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">BEGGAR.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Through the whole Piece you may observe such a similitude of Manners
                                in high and low Life, that it is difficult to determine whether (in
                                the fashionable Vices) the fine Gentlemen imitate the Gentlemen of
                                the Road, or the Gentlemen of the Road the fine Gentlemen.Had the
                                Play remaind, as I at first intended, it would have carried a most
                                excellent Moral. Twould have shown that the lower Sort of People
                                have their Vices in a degree as well as the Rich: And that they are
                                punishd for them.</p>
                        </sp>
                    </div3>



                    <div3 type="scene" n="17">
                        <head>SCENE XVII.</head>

                        <stage>To them, MACHEATH with Rabble, &amp;c.</stage>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> So, it seems, I am not left to my Choice, but must have a Wife at
                                last.Look ye, my Dears, we will have no Controversie now. Let us
                                give this Day to Mirth, and I am sure she who thinks herself my Wife
                                will testifie her Joy by a Dance.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp>
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">ALL.</hi></speaker>
                            <p>Come, a Dancea Dance.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <sp who="M">
                            <speaker><hi rend="italics">MACHEATH.</hi></speaker>
                            <p> Ladies, I hope you will give me leave to present a Partner to each
                                of you. And (if I may without Offence) for this time, I take Polly
                                for mine.(To POLLY.) And for Life, you Slut,--for we were really
                                marryd.(Aloud.) As for the rest.(To POLLY.) But at present keep your
                                own Secret.</p>
                        </sp>

                        <stage>A DANCE.</stage>

                        <floatingText xml:lang="eng">
                            <body>
                                <div type="song" n="69">
                                    <head>AIR LXIX. Lumps of Pudding, &amp;c.</head>

                                    <l>Thus I stand like the Turk, with his Doxies around;</l>
                                    <l>From all Sides their Glances his Passion confound;</l>
                                    <l>For black, brown, and fair, his Inconstancy burns,</l>
                                    <l>And the different Beauties subdue him by turns:</l>
                                    <l>Each calls forth her Charms, to provoke his Desires:</l>
                                    <l>Though willing to all; with but one he retires.</l>
                                    <l>But think of this Maxim, and put off your Sorrow,</l>
                                    <l>The Wretch of To-day, may be happy To-morrow.</l>

                                    <l>CHORUS. But think of this Maxim, &amp;c.</l>
                                </div>
                            </body>
                        </floatingText>

                        <stage>FINIS</stage>
                    </div3>


                </div2>
            </div1>
        </body>
    </text>
</TEI>

                