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Macheath in a fine tarnished coat, Ben Budge, Matt of the Mint.

Mach. 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.

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* A cant word, fignifying a warehouse where stolen goods are deposited.

But we, gentlemen, have still honour enough to break through the corruptions of the world And while I can ferve you, you may command me. Ben. It grieves my heart that so generous a man should be involved in such difficulties, as oblige him to live with such ill company, and herd with gamesters. Matt. See the partiality of mankind!—One man may steal a horse, better than another look over a hedge.— Of all mechanics, of all servile handycraftsmen, a gamester is the vilest. But yet, as many of the quality are of the profession, he is admitted amongst the politeit company. I wonder we are not more respected. Mach. There will be deep play to-night at Marybone, and consequently money may be picked up upon the road. Meet me there, and I’ll give you the hint who is worth setting. Mart. The fellow with a brown coat with a narrow gold binding, I am told, is never without money. Mach. What do you mean, Matt Pr—Sure you will not think of meddling with him l—He's a good hones; kind of a fellow, and one of us. Ben. To be sure, Sir, we will put ourselves under your direction. Mach. Have an eye upon the money-lenders.—A rouleau, or two, would prove a pretty sort of an expedition. I hate extortion. Matt. Those rouleaus are very pretty things.-I hate your bank bills—there is i.e. a hazard in putting them off. Mach. There is a certain man of distinčtion, who in his time hath nicked me out of a great deal of the ready. He is in my cash, Ben ; I’ll point him out to you this evening, and you shall draw upon him for the debt-iThe company are met; I hear the dice-box in the other room. So, gentlemen, your servant. You'll meet me at Marybone, Matt. Upon honour.

S C E N E, Peachum's Lock.
A table with wine, brandy, pipes and tobacco,

- - - Peachum, Lockit. .. £ocł, The coronation account, brother Peachum, is

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3 Peach,

Peach. But what fignifies catching the bird, if your daughter Lucy will set open the door of the cage 2

Lock. 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

tinkind of you, brother; for among good friends, wha

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I, Mrs. Dye frapes. Fill it up—I take as large draughts of liquor, as I did of love--I hate a flincher in either.

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