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Lihe poor petty rascals might hang, hang,
Lihe poor petty rascals might hang.

Peach. Set your heart at rest, Polly—your husband is to die to-day—therefore, if you are not already provided, 'tis high time to look about for another. There's comfort for you, you slut. 532

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


Bonny Dundee.

Mac. The charge is prepar'd, the lawyers are met, The judges all rang'd (a terrible show !) 1 go undismay''d—for death is a debt, A debt on demandso tahe what 1 owe. Then farewellmy lovedear Charmers! adieu, Contented I die'tis the better for you. 540 Here ends all dispute the rest of our lives, For this way at once I please all my wives.

Now, gentlemen, I am ready to attend you.

[Exeunt Peachum, Lochit, and Macheath.

Polly. Follow them, Filch, to the court, and when the trial is over, bring me a particular account of his behaviour, and of every thing that happened—You'll find me here with Miss Lucy. [Exit Filch] But why is all this musick?

Lucy. The prisoners, whose trials are put off till next session, are diverting themselves. 550

Polly. 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.


A dance of prisoners in chains, See.

Scene, the condemn'd hold.
Macheath in a melancholy posture.

Happy groves.

O cruel,.cruel, cruel case!
Must I suffer this disgrace?


Of all the girls that are so smart.

Of all the friends in time ofgrief,
When threatening Death loohs grimmer,
Not one so sure can bring relief 560
As this best friend, a brimmer. [Drinhs.

Britons strike home.

Since I must swingI scorn, I scorn to wince or whine.

I [Rises. AIR.

Chevy chase.
But now again my spirits sinh,
I'll raise them high with wine.

[Drinhs a glass of wine.


To old Sir Simon the king.
But valour the stronger grows
The stronger liquor we're drinhing,
And how can we feel our woes
When we 'ave lost the trouble of thinhing?



Joy to great Caesar.
If thusa man can die
Much bolder with brandy.

[Pours out a bumper of brandy.


There was an old woman, (3c. So I drinh off this bumperand now I can stand, the test,

And my comrades shall see that 1 die as brave as the best.



Did you ever hear of a gallant sailor.
But can I leave my pretty hussies
Without one tear or tender sigh?


Why are mine eyes still flowing.
Their eyes, their lips, their busses,
Recall my loveAh! must I die!


Green sleeves.

Since laws were made for ev'ry degree,
To curb vice in others as well as in me,
I wonder we ha'n't better company
Upon Tyburn tree! 580
But gold from law can tahe out the sting,
And if rich men lihe us were to swing,
'Twould thin the land such numbers to string
Upon Tyburn tree.

Jail. Some friends of your's, Captain, desire to be admitted—I leave you together. [Exit.

Enter Ben Budge and Mat of the Mint. Mac. For my having broke prison, you see, gentlemen, I am ordered immediate execution—The sheriff's officers I believe are now at the door. That

Jemmy Twitcher should peach me, I own surprised me—'Tis a plain proof that the world is all alike, and that even our gang can no more trust one another than other people; therefore, I beg you, gentlemen, look well to yourselves, for, in all probability, you may live some months longer.

Mat. We are heartily sorry, Captain, for your misfortunes—but 'tis what we must all come to.

Mac. Peachum and Lockit, you know, are infamous scoundrels: their lives are as much in your

power, as your's are in theirs Remember your

dying friend 'tis my last request Bring those

villains to the gallows before you, and I am satisfied.

Mat. We'll do't. 603

Re-enter Jailor. Jail. Miss Polly and Miss Lucy entreat a word with you.

Mac. Gentlemen, adieu.

[Exeunt Ben. Budge and Mat of the Mint.

Enter Lucy and Polly. Mac. My dear Lucy my dear Polly whatsoever 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 apiece, or, by good luck, two or three, as you like best.

Polly. How can I support this sight! Lucy. There is nothing moves one so much as a great man in distress.


All you that must take a leap.
Lucy. Wou'd I might be hang'd I
Polly. And I would so too.
Lucy. To be hang'd withyou,

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