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This way, and that way, and which way I will, What would comfort the one, t'other wife would take ill.
When he holds up his hand arraign'd for his life
Lock. Macheath's time is come, Lucy.—We know
our own affairs, therefore let us have no more whimpering or whining.
Peach. Set your heart at rest, Polly. Your husband is to die to-day.—Therefore, if you are not already provided, 'tis high time to look about for another. There’s comfort for you, you slut.
Lock. We are ready, Sir, to condućt you to the Old
Since laws were made for ev'ry degree,
To curb vice in others, as well as in me,
I wonder we han’t better company
But gold from law, can take out the sting;
And if rich men like us were to swing,
'Twould thin the land, such numbers to string
jailor. Some friends of yours, Captain, desire to be admitted. I leave you together.
Enter Ben Budge, and Mat of the Mint.
fortune---But 'tis what we must all come to. - Mac,