sum in the year. Money well timed and properly applied, will do any thing. AIR. London ladies. If you at an office solicit your due, You must quicken the clerk with the perquisite too, To do what his duty directed. Or would you the frowns of a lady prevent, She too has this palpable failing, The perquisite softens her into consent; That reason with all is prevailing. Lucy. What love or money can do, shall be done; for all my comfort depends upon your safety. Enter POLLY. Polly. Where is my dear husband ?--Was a rope ever intended for this neck!-Oh let me throw my arms about it and throttle thee with love!-Why dost thou turn away from me ?-'tis thy Polly-'tis thy wife. Mac. Was ever such an unfortunate rascal as I am! Lucy. Was there ever such another villain! Polly. Oh, Macheath! was it for this we parted! Taken! imprisoned! tried! hanged!-Cruel reflec tion! I'll stay with thee till death- -no force shall tear thy dear wife from thee now.-What means my love-not one kind word! not one kind look! Think what thy Polly suffers to see thee in this condition. AIR. All in the Downs, &c. Thus when the swallow, seeking prey, His consort with bemoaning lay Without sits pining for th' event; Her chatt'ring lovers all around her skim; 59° She heeds them not (poor bird!) her soul's with him. Mac. I must disown her. [Aside.] The wench is distracted! Lucy. Am I then bilked of my virtue can I have no reparation? Sure men were born to lie, and women to believe them! Oh villain! villain ! 599 Polly. Am I not thy wife ?-Thy neglect of me, thy aversion to me, too severely proves it.-Look on me-Tell me, am I not thy wife? Lucy. Perfidious wretch ! Polly. Barbarous husband! Lucy. Hadst thou been hanged five months ago, I had been happy. Polly. And I too. If you had been kind to me till death, it would not have vexed me e-and that's no very unreasonable request (though from a wife) to a man who hath not above seven or eight days to live. Lucy. Art thou then married to another? hast thou two wives, monster ? 612 Mac. If womens' tongues can cease for an answer -hear me. Lucy. I won't.-Flesh and blood cannot bear my usage. Polly. Shall I not claim my own?-Justice bids me speak? AIR. Have you heard of a frolicksome ditty. Mac. How happy could I be with either, Where t' other dear charmer away! To neither, a word will I say, 620 Polly. Sure, my dear! there ought to be some pre. ference shewn to a wife; at least she may claim the appearance of it. He must be distracted with his misfortunes or he could not use me thus. Lucy. Oh, villain! villain! thou hast deceived me. -I could even inform against thee with pleasure.— Not a prude wishes more heartily to have facts against her intimate acquaintance, than I now wish to have facts against thee. I would have her satisfaction, and they should all out. 638 Polly. Oh how I am troubled! Lucy. Bamboozled and bit! Polly. My distresses are doubled. These fingers with pleasure could fasten the noose. Mac. Be pacified, my dear Lucy-this is all a fetch of Polly's to make me desperate with you in case I get off. If I am hanged, she would fain have the credit of being thought my widow.-Really, Polly, this is no time for a dispute of this sort, for whenever you are talking of marriage, I am thinking of hanging. Polly. And hast thou the heart to persist in disowning me? Mac. And hast thou the heart to persist in persuading me that I am married? Why, Polly, dost thou seek to aggravate my misfortunes? Lucy. Really, Miss Peachum, you but expose yourself: besides 't is barbarous in you to worry a gentleman in his circumstances. AIR. Polly. Cease your funning, Force or cunning Never shall my heart trepan: All these sallies Are but malice To seduce my constant man. 'Tis most certain By their flirting Women oft have envy shown, Pleas'd to ruin Others' wooing, Never happy in their own! 660 Decency, Madam, methinks might teach you to behave yourself with some reserve with the husband while his wife is present. 670 Mac. But seriously, Polly, this is carrying the joke a little too far. Lucy. If you are determined, Madam, to raise a disturbance in the prison, I shall be obliged to send for the Turnkey to shew you the door. I am sorry, Madam, you force me to be so ill-bred. Polly. Give me leave to tell you, Madam, these forward airs don't become you in the least, Madam; and my duty, Madam, obliges me to stay with my husband, Madam. 680 AIR. Good-morrow, gossip Joan. Lucy. Why, how now, Madam Flirt ? If you thus must chatter, |