own.

Still plays about the flame!

If foon fhe be not made a wife,
Her honour's fing'd, and then for life
She's what I dare not name.

Peach. Look ye, wife, a handfome wench in our way of bufinefs is as profitable as at the bar of a Temple coffee-house, who looks upon it as her livelihood to grant every liberty but one. You fee I would indulge the girl as far as prudently we can, in any thing, but marriage! after that, my dear, how thall we be safe? Are we not then in her husband's power: for a husband hath the abfolute power over all a wife's fecrets but her If the girl had the difcretion of a court lady, who can have a dozen young fellows at her ear without complying with one, I fhould not matter it; but Polly is tinder, and a fpark will at once fet her on a flame. Married! if the wench does not know her own profit, fure the knows her own pleasure better than to make herself a property! My daughter to me should be like a court lady to a minifter of ftate, a key to the whole gang. Married! If the affair is not already done, I'll terrify her from it, by the example of our neighbours.

Mrs. Peach. May hap, my dear, you may injure the girl. She loves to imitate the fine ladies, and the may only allow the captain liberties in the view of interest.

Peach. But 'tis your duty, to warn the girl against her ruin, and to inftruct her how to make the most of her beauty. I'll go to her this moment, and fift her. In the mean time, wife, rip out the coronets and marks of thefe dozen of cambric handkerchiefs, for I can difpose of them this afternoon to a chap in the city.

SCENE V.
Mrs. Peachum.

Never was a man more out of the way in an argument than my husband! why muft our Polly, forfooth, differ from her fex, and love only her husband? And why muft Polly's marriage, contrary to all obfervation, make her the lefs followed by other men? All men are thieves in love, and like a woman the better for being another's property.

AIR V. Of all the fimple things we do, &c.
A maid is like the golden ore,
Which bath guineas intrinsical in't,
Whofe worth is never known before
It is try'd and impreft in the mint.
A wife's like a guinea in gold,
Stampt with the name of her spouse;

Now here, now there; is bought or is fold ;
And is current in every house.

SCENE VI.

Mrs. Peachum, Filch.

Mrs. Peach. Come hither, Filch. I am as fond of this child as though my mind mifgave me he were my own. He hath as fine a hand at picking a pocket as a woman, and is as nimble-finger'd as a juggler. If an unlucky feffion does not cut the rope of thy life, I pronounce, boy, thou wilt be a great man in hiftory. Where was your poft laft night, my boy?

Filch. I ply'd at the opera, madam; and confidering 'twas neither dark nor rainy, fo that there was no great hurry in getting chairs and coaches, made a tolerable hand on't. These seven handkerchiefs, madam.

Mrs. Peach. Colour'd ones, I fee. They are of fure fale from our warehouse at Redriff among the feamen. Filch. And this fnuff-box.

Mrs. Peach. Set in gold! A pretty encouragement this to a young beginner.

Filch. I had a rare tug at a charming gold watch. Pox take the taylors for making the fobs fo deep and narrow! It stuck by the way, and I was forced to make my escape under a coach. Really, madam, I fear I fhall be cut off in the flower of my youth, fo that every now and then (fince I was pumpt) I have thoughts of taking up and going to fea.

Mrs. Peach. You should go to Hockley in the Hole, and to Marybone, child, to learn valour. These are the schools that have bred up fo many brave men. I thought, boy, by this time, thou hadst loft fear as well as fhame. Poor lad! how little does he know as yet of the Old Bailey! For the first fact I'll infure thee from being hang'd;

and

and going to fea, Filch, will come time enough upon a fentence of transportation. But now, fince you have nothing better to do, ev'n go to your book, and learn your catechifm; for really a man makes but an ill figure in the Ordinary's Paper, who cannot give a fatisfactory answer to his questions. But, hark you, my lad, don't tell me a lye; for you know I hate a lyar. Do you know of any thing that hath past between captain Macheath and our Polly.

Filch. I beg you, madam, don't ask me; for I must either tell a lie to you or to Mifs Polly, for I promis'd her I would not tell.

Mrs. Peach. But when the honour of our family is concern'd

Filch. I fhall lead a fad life with Mifs Polly, if ever the come to know that I told you. Befides, I would not willingly forfeit my own honour by betraying any body.

Mrs. Peach. Yonder comes my husband and Polly. Come, Filch, you fhall go with me into my own room, and tell me the whole ftory. I'll give thee a glafs of a moft delicious cordial that I keep for my own drinking.

SCENE VII.

Peachum, Polly.

Polly. I know as well as any of the fine ladies how to make the most of myself and of my man too. A woman knows how to be mercenary, though the hath never been in a court or at an affembly. We have it in our natures, Papa. If I allow captain Macheath fome trifling liberties, I have this watch and other vifible marks of his favour to fhow for it. A girl who cannot grant fome things, and refufe what is oft material, will make but a poor hand of her beauty, and foon be thrown upon the common.

AIR. VI. What fall I do to show how much I love her, &c.

Virgins are like the fair flower in its luftre,
Which in the garden enamels the ground;
Near it the bees in play flutter and cluster,
And gaudy butterflies frolick around:

But

But when once pluck'd 'tis no longer alluring,
To Covent Garden 'tis fent (as yet fweet,)
There fades and forinks, and grows paft all enduring,
Ruts, ftinks, and dies, and is trod under feet.

Peach. You know, Polly, I am not against your toying and trifling with a cuftomer in the way of bufinefs, or to get out a fecret, or fo. But if I find out that you have play'd the fool and are married, you jade you, I'll cut your throat, huffy. Now you know my mind.

Peachum, Polly, Mrs. Peachum.

AIR VII. Oh London is a fine town.
Mrs. Peachum in a very great paffion.

Our Polly is a fad flut! nor heeds what we have taught her,

I wonder any man alive will ever rear a daughter! For fbe must have both hoods and gowns, and hoops ta fwell her pride,

With fearfs and stays, and gloves and lace; and she'll bave man befide;

And when he's dreft with care and coft, all-tempting fine and gay,

As men bould ferve a cucumber, fbe flings berfelf away. Our Poily is a fad flut, &c.

You baggage! you huffy! you inconfiderate jade! had you been hang'd it would not have vex'd me, for that might have been your misfortune; but to do fuch a mad thing by choice! the wench is married, husband. Peach. Married! the captain it a bold man, and will rifque any thing for money; to be fure he believes her a fortune. Do you think your mother and I should have lived comfortably fo long together, if ever we had been married, baggage?

Mrs. Peach. I knew he was always a proud flut; and now the wench has play'd the fool and married, becaufe forfooth fhe would do like the gentry. Can you fupport the expence of a husband, buffy, in gaming, drinking, and whoring? Have you money enough to

carry

carry on the daily quarrels of a man and wife about who fhall fquander moft? There are not many hufbands and wives, who can bear the charges of plaguing one another in a handfome way. If you must be married, could you introduce nobody into our family but a highwayman? Why, thou foolish jade, thou wilt be as ill ufed, and as much neglected, as if thou hadst married a lord!

Peach. Let not your anger, my dear, break through the rules of decency, for the captain looks upon himfelf in the military capacity, as a gentleman by his profeffion. Befides what he hath already, I know he is in a fair way of getting, or of dying: and both these ways, let me tell you, are moft excellent chances for a wife. Tell me, huffy, are you ruined or no?

Mrs. Peach. With Polly's fortune the might very well have gone off to a perfon of diftinction. Yes, that you might, you pouting flut!

Polly. Oh!

Peach. What, is the wench dumb? Speak, or I'll make you plead by fqueezing out an answer from you. Are you really bound wife to him, or are you only upon liking? [Pinches her. [Screaming. Mrs. Peach. How the mother is to be pitied who hath handsome daughters! locks, bolts, bars, and lectures of morality are nothing to them: they break through them all. They have as much pleafure in cheating a father and mother as in cheating at cards. Peach. Why, Polly, I fhall foon know if you are married, by Macheath's keeping from our houfe.

AIR VIII. Grim king of the ghosts, &c.
Polly. Can love be controul'd by advice?
Will Cupid our mothers obey?

Though my heart were as frozen as ice,
At his flame 'twould have melted away.

When be kift me fo clofely be preft,

'Twas fo fweet that I must have comply'd: So I thought it both fafeft and beft

To marry for fear you fhould chide.

Mrs. Peach. Then all the hopes of our family are

gone for ever and ever.

Peach.