The waves are laid, My duty's paid. O joy beyond expreffion! I afk no more, My all is in my poffeffion. Peach. I hear customers in t'other room; go, talk with 'em, Polly; but come again, as foon as they are gone. But hark ye, child, if 'tis the gentleman who was here yesterday about the repeating watch, fay, you believe we can't get intelligence of it till to-morrow, for I lent it to Suky Straddle, to make a figure with to-night at a tavern in Drury-lane. If t'other gentleman calls for the filver-hilted fword, you know beetle-brow'd Jemmy hath it on, and he doth not come from Tunbridge till Tuesday night; fo that it cannot be had till then. [Exit Polly.] Dear wife, be a little pacified. Don't let your paffion run away with your fenfes. Polly, I grant you, hath done a rash thing. Mrs. Peach. If he had had only an intrigue with the fellow, why the very best families have excufed and huddled up a frailty of that fort. 'Tis marriage, husband, that makes it a blemish. Peach. 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 fuch a contempt for roguery as you imagine. I tell you, wife, I can make this match turn to our advantage. Mrs. Peach. I am very fenfible, hufband, 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 die in a feffion or two, Polly's dower would come into difpute. Peach. That, indeed, is a point which ought to be confidered. AIR XI. A foldier and a failor. A fox may fteal your hens, Sir, • Your • Your daughter rob your cheft, Sir, With rest, peace, cheft, and chicken : If lawyer's hand is fee'd, Sir, He steals your whole estate. The lawyers are bitter enemies to thofe in our way. They don't care that any body fhould get a clandestine livelihood but themselves. Enter Polly. Polly. "Twas only Nimming Ned. He brought in a damafk window-curtain, a hoop-petticoat, a pair of filver candlesticks, a perriwig, and one filk stocking, from the fire that happen'd last night. Peach. There is not a fellow that is cleverer in his way, and faves more goods out of the fire than Ned. But now, Polly, to your affair; for matters must not be as they are. You are married then, it seems ? Polly. Yes, Sir. my Peach. And how do you propofe to live, child? Polly. Like other women, Sir, upon the industry of hufband. Mrs. Peach. What, is the wench turn'd fool? A highway-man's wife, like a foldier's, hath as little of his pay as of his company. Peach. And had not you the common views of a gentlewoman in your marriage, Polly? Polly. I don't know what you mean, Sir. Peach. Of a jointure, and of being a widow. Polly, But I love him, Sir: how then could I have thoughts of parting with him?· Peach. Parting with him! Why, that is the whole fcheme and intention of all marriage-articles. The comfortable eftate of widowhood is the only hope that keeps up a wife's fpirits. Where is the woman who would fcruple to be a wife, if she had it in her power to be a widow whenever the pleased? If you have any views of this fort, Polly, I fhall think the match not fo very unreasonable. B 3 Polly. Polly. How I dread to hear your advice! Yet I must beg you to explain yourself. Peach. Secure what he hath got, have him peach'd the next feffions, and then at once you are made a rich widow. Polly. What, murder the man I love! The blood runs cold at my heart with the very thought of it. Peach. Fie, Polly! what hath murder to do in the affair? Since the thing fooner or later must happen, I dare fay, the Captain himfelf would like that we should get the reward for his death fooner than a stranger. Why, Polly, the Captain knows, that as 'tis his employment to rob, fo 'tis ours to take robbers; every man in his businefs. So that there is no malice in the cafe. Mrs. Peach. Ay, husband, now you have nick'd the To have him pcach'd is the only thing could ever make me forgive her. matter. AIR XII. Now ponder well, ye parents dear. Polly. Oh, ponder well! be not severe ; So fave a wretched wife! For on the rope that hangs my dear, Mrs. Peach. But your duty to your parents, huffy, obliges you to hang him. What would many a wife give for fuch an opportunity! Polly. What is a jointure, what is widowhood to me? I know my heart. I cannot furvive him. AIR XIII. Le printemps rappelle aux armes. The turtle thus with plaintive crying, Her lover dying, The turtle thus with plaintive crying Laments her dove. Down fhe drops quite spent with fighing, Thus, Sir, it will happen to your poor Polly. Mrs. Peach. What, is the fool in love in earnest then? I hate thee for being particular: why, wench, thou art a fhame to thy very sex. Polly. But hear me, mother----If you ever lov'd Mrs. Peach. Those curfed play-books fhe reads have been her ruin. One word more, huffy, and I shall knock your brains, out, if you have any. Peach. Keep out of the way, Polly, for fear of mifchief, and confider of what is proposed to you. Mrs. Peach. Away, huffy. Hang your husband, and be dutiful. [Polly liftening.] The thing, husband, must and shall be done. For the fake of intelligence we must take other measures, and have him peach'd the next seffion without her confent. If fhe will not know her duty, we know ours. Peach. But really, my dear, it grieves one's heart to take off a great man. When I confider his perfonal bravery, his fine ftratagem, 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 an hand in his death. I with you could have made Polly undertake it. Mrs. Peach. But in a cafe of neceffity-..our own lives are in danger. Peach. Then, indeed, we must comply with the cuftoms of the world, and make gratitude give way to interest- -He fhall be taken off. Mrs. Peach. I'll undertake to manage Polly. Peach. And I'll prepare matters for the Old Bailey. [Exeunt Peachum and Mrs. Peachum. Polly. Now I'm a wretch, indeed.---Methinks. I fee him already in the cart, sweeter and more lovely than the nofegay in his hand!. -I hear the crowd extolling his refolution and intrepidity! What vollies of fighs are fent from the windows of Holborn, that fo comely a youth should be brought to difgrace I fee him at the tree! the whole circle are in tears!- -even butchers weep!—Jack Ketch himself hefitates to perform his duty, and would be glad to lofe his fee, by a reprieve. What then will become of Polly!- As yet I may inform him of their defign, and aid him in his efcape. It fhall be fo.- -But then he flies, absents himself, and I bar myself from his dear, dear converfation! that too will distract me. — -If he keeps out of the way, my papa and mama may in time relent, and we may be happapa py.- If he ftays, he is hang'd, and then he is loft for ever!He intended to lie conceal'd. in my room, 'till the dusk of the evening? If they are abroad I'll this inftant let him out, left fome accident fhould prevent him. [Exit, and returns with Macheath. Mac. Polly. Mac. AIR XIV. Pretty Parrot, fay, &c. Pretty Polly, fay, When I was away, Did your fancy never ftray To fome newer lover? Without difguife, Heaving fighs, Doating eyes, My conftant heart discover. Polly. And are you as fond of me as ever, my dear? Mac. Sufpect my honour, my courage, fufpect any thing but my love.---May my piftols mifs fire, and my mare flip her shoulder while I am pursued, if I ever forfake thee! Polly. 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. Mac. AIR XV. Pray, fair one, be kind. My heart was fo free. It rov'd like the bee, 'Till Polly my paffion requited; I chang❜d ev'ry hour, But here ev'ry flower is united. Polly. Were you fentenc'd to transportation, fure, my dear, you could not leave me behind you could you ? Mac. Is there any power, any force that could tear me from |