Scene II
- Scene II

Scene II

Newgate

Lockit, turnkeys, Macheath, constables.


Lockit	Noble Captain, you are welcome. You have not been a lodger of mine this year and half. You know the custom, sir. Garnish, Captain, garnish. Hand me down those fetters there.
Macheath	Those, Mr. Lockit, seem to be the heaviest of the whole set. With your leave, I should like the further pair better.
Lockit	Look ye, Captain, we know what is fittest for our prisoners. When a gentleman uses me with civility, I always do the best I can to please him.⁠—Hand them down I say.⁠—We have them of all prices, from one guinea to ten, and ’tis fitting every gentleman should please himself.
Macheath	I understand you, sir. Gives money. The fees here are so many, and so exorbitant, that few fortunes can bear the expense of getting off handsomly, or of dying like a gentleman.
Lockit	Those, I see, will fit the Captain better⁠—Take down the further pair. Do but examine them, sir.⁠—Never was better work.⁠—How genteely they are made!⁠—They will fit as easy as a glove, and the nicest man in England might not be ashamed to wear them. He puts on the chains. If I had the best gentleman in the land in my custody I could not equip him more handsomly. And so, sir⁠—I now leave you to your private meditations.
	Exeunt leaving Macheath solus.
Air XXV. Courtiers, courtiers, think it no harm, etc. A score two staves long in six-four time, in the key of E Minor.
Macheath	Man may escape from rope and gun; Nay, some have outlived the doctor’s pill; Who takes a woman must be undone, That basilisk is sure to kill. The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets, So he that tastes woman, woman, woman, He that tastes woman, ruin meets. To what a woeful plight have I brought myself! Here must I (all day long, ’till I am hanged) be confined to hear the reproaches of a wench who lays her ruin at my door⁠—I am in the custody of her father, and to be sure, if he knows of the matter, I shall have a fine time on’t betwixt this and my execution.⁠—But I promised the wench marriage⁠—What signifies a promise to a woman? Does not man in marriage itself promise a hundred things that he never means to perform? Do all we can, women will believe us; for they look upon a promise as an excuse for following their own inclinations.⁠—But here comes Lucy, and I cannot get from her.⁠—Wou’d I were deaf!
	Enter Lucy.
Lucy	You base man you⁠—how can you look me in the face after what hath passed between us?⁠—See here, perfidious wretch, how I am forced to bear about the load of infamy you have laid upon me⁠—O Macheath! thou hast robbed me of my quiet⁠—to see thee tortured would give me pleasure.
Air XXVI. A lovely lass to a friar came, etc. A score two staves long in four-four time, in the key of G Major.
	Thus when a good housewife sees a rat In her trap in the morning taken, With pleasure her heart goes pit-a-pat, In revenge for her loss of bacon. Then she throws him To the dog or cat, To be worried, crushed and shaken.
Macheath	Have you no bowels, no tenderness, my dear Lucy, to see a husband in these circumstances?
Lucy	A husband!
Macheath	In ev’ry respect but the form, and that, my dear, may be said over us at any time.⁠—Friends should not insist upon ceremonies. From a man of honour, his word is as good as his bond.
Lucy	’Tis the pleasure of all you fine men to insult the women you have ruined.
Air XXVII. ’Twas when the sea was roaring, etc. A score three staves long in six-eight time, in the key of G Major.
	How cruel are the traitors, Who lie and swear in jest, To cheat unguarded creatures Of virtue, fame, and rest! Whoever steals a shilling, Through shame the guilt conceals: In love the perjured villain With boasts the theft reveals.
Macheath	The very first opportunity, my dear, (have but patience) you shall be my wife in whatever manner you please.
Lucy	Insinuating monster! And so you think I know nothing of the affair of Miss Polly Peachum.⁠—I could tear thy eyes out!
Macheath	Sure, Lucy, you can’t be such a fool as to be jealous of Polly!
Lucy	Are you not married to her, you brute, you.
Macheath	Married! Very good. The wench gives it out only to vex thee, and to ruin me in thy good opinion. ’Tis true, I go to the house; I chat with the girl, I kiss her, I say a thousand things to her (as all gentlemen do) that mean nothing, to divert myself; and now the silly jade hath set it about that I am married to her, to let me know what she would be at. Indeed, my dear Lucy, these violent passions may be of ill consequence to a woman in your condition.
Lucy	Come, come, Captain, for all your assurance, you know that Miss Polly hath put it out of your power to do me the justice you promised me.
Macheath	A jealous woman believes everything her passion suggests. To convince you of my sincerity, if we can find the ordinary, I shall have no scruples of making you my wife; and I know the consequence of having two at a time.
Lucy	That you are only to be hanged, and so get rid of them both.
Macheath	I am ready, my dear Lucy, to give you satisfaction⁠—if you think there is any in marriage.⁠—What can a man of honour say more?
Lucy	So then, it seems, you are not married to Miss Polly.
Macheath	You know, Lucy, the girl is prodigiously conceited. No man can say a civil thing to her, but (like other fine ladies) her vanity makes her think he’s her own forever and ever.
Air XXVIII. The sun had loosed his weary teams, etc. A score two staves long in six-four time, in the key of A Major.
	The first time at the looking-glass The mother sets her daughter, The image strikes the smiling lass With self-love ever after, Each time she looks, she, fonder grown, Thinks ev’ry charm grows stronger. But alas, vain maid, all eyes but your own Can see you are not younger. When women consider their own beauties, they are all alike unreasonable in their demands; for they expect their lovers should like them as long as they like themselves.
Lucy	Yonder is my father⁠—perhaps this way we may light upon the ordinary, who shall try if you will be as good as your word.⁠—For I long to be made an honest woman. Exeunt.
	Peachum* and Lockit* with an account-book.
Lockit	In this last affair, brother Peachum, we are agreed. You have consented to go halves in Macheath.
Peachum	We shall never fall out about an execution⁠—But as to that article, pray how stands our last year’s account?
Lockit	If you will run your eye over it, you’ll find ’tis fair and clearly stated.
Peachum	This long arrear of the government is very hard upon us! Can it be expected that we would hang our acquaintance for nothing, when our betters will hardly save theirs without being paid for it. Unless the people in employment pay better, I promise them for the future, I shall let other rogues live besides their own.
Lockit	Perhaps, brother, they are afraid these matters may be carried too far. We are treated too by them with contempt, as if our profession were not reputable.
Peachum	In one respect indeed our employment may be reckoned dishonest, because, like great statesmen, we encourage those who betray their friends.
Lockit	Such language, brother, anywhere else, might turn to your prejudice. Learn to be more guarded, I beg you.
Air XXIX. How happy are we, etc. A score two staves long in four-four time, in the key of A Major.
	When you censure the age, Be cautious and sage, Lest the courtiers offended should be: If you mention vice or bribe, ’Tis so pat to all the tribe; Each cries⁠—That was levelled at me.
Peachum	Here’s poor Ned Clincher’s name, I see. Sure, brother Lockit, there was a little unfair proceeding in Ned’s case: for he told me in the condemned hold, that for value received, you had promised him a session or two longer without molestation.
Lockit	Mr. Peachum⁠—this is the first time my honour was ever called in question.
Peachum	Business is at an end⁠—if once we act dishonourably.
Lockit	Who accuses me?
Peachum	You are warm, brother.
Lockit	He that attacks my honour, attacks my livelihood.⁠—And this usage⁠—Sir⁠—is not to be borne.
Peachum	Since you provoke me to speak⁠—I must tell you too, that Mrs. Coaxer charges you with defrauding her of her information-money, for the apprehending of curl-pated Hugh. Indeed, indeed, brother, we must punctually pay our spies, or we shall have no information.
Lockit	Is this language to me, sirrah⁠—who have saved you from the gallows, sirrah! Collaring each other.
Peachum	If I am hanged, it shall be for ridding the world of an arrant rascal.
Lockit	This hand shall do the office of the halter you deserve, and throttle you⁠—you dog!⁠—
Peachum	Brother, brother⁠—We are both in the wrong⁠—We shall be both losers in the dispute⁠—for you know we have it in our power to hang each other. You should not be so passionate.
Lockit	Nor you so provoking.
Peachum	’Tis our mutual interest; ’tis for the interest of the world we should agree. If I said anything, brother, to the prejudice of your character, I ask pardon.
Lockit	Brother Peachum⁠—I can forgive as well as resent.⁠—Give me your hand. Suspicion does not become a friend.
Peachum	I only meant to give you occasion to justify yourself: But I must now step home, for I expect the gentleman about this snuffbox, that Filch nimmed two nights ago in the park. I appointed him at this hour. Exit Peachum.
	Enter Lucy.
Lockit	Whence come you, hussy?
Lucy	My tears might answer that question.
Lockit	You have then been whimpering and fondling, like a spaniel, over the fellow that hath abused you.
Lucy	One can’t help love; one can’t cure it. ’Tis not in my power to obey you, and hate him.
Lockit	Learn to bear your husband’s death like a reasonable woman. ’Tis not the fashion, nowadays, so much as to affect sorrow upon these occasions. No woman would ever marry, if she had not the chance of mortality for a release. Act like a woman of spirit, hussy, and thank your father for what he is doing.
Air XXX. Of a noble race was Shenkin. A score two staves long in four-four time, in the key of A Minor.
Lucy	Is then his fate decreed, sir? Such a man can I think of quitting? When first we met, so moves me yet, O see how my heart is splitting!
Lockit	Look ye, Lucy⁠—There is no saving him.⁠—So, I think, you must ev’n do like other widows⁠—buy yourself weeds, and be cheerful.
Air XXXI. A score two staves long in four-four time, in the key of A Minor.
	You’ll think ere many days ensue This sentence not severe; I hang your husband, child, ’tis true, But with him hang your care. Twang dang dillo dee. Like a good wife, go moan over your dying husband. That, child is your duty⁠—Consider, girl, you can’t have the man and the money too⁠—so make yourself as easy as you can, by getting all you can from him. Exit Lockit.
	Enter Macheath.
Lucy	Though the ordinary was out of the way today, I hope, my dear, you will, upon the first opportunity, quiet my scruples⁠—Oh sir!⁠—my father’s hard heart is not to be softened, and I am in the utmost despair.
Macheath	But if I could raise a small sum⁠—Would not twenty guineas, think you, move him?⁠—Of all the arguments in the way of business, the perquisite is the most prevailing⁠—Your father’s perquisites for the escape of prisoners must amount to a considerable sum in the year. Money well timed, and properly applied, will do anything.
Air XXXII. London ladies. A score three staves long in six-four time, in the key of G Major.
	If you at an office solicit your due, And would not have matters neglected; 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!⁠—O 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.
Macheath	Was ever such an unfortunate rascal as I am!
Lucy	Was there ever such another villain!
Polly	O Macheath! was it for this we parted? Taken! Imprisoned! Tried! Hanged⁠—cruel reflection! 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 XXXIII. All in the Downs, etc. A score two staves long in three-four time, in the key of G Major.
	Thus when the swallow seeking prey, Within the sash is closely pent, His consort, with bemoaning lay, Without sits pining for th’ event. Her chatt’ring lovers all around her skim; She heeds them not (poor bird!) her soul’s with him.
Macheath	Aside. I must disown her. Aloud. 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! O villain! Villain!
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—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?
Macheath	If women’s tongues can cease for an answer⁠—hear me.
Lucy	I won’t.⁠—Flesh and blood can’t bear my usage.
Polly	Shall I not claim my own? Justice bids me speak.
Air XXXIV. Have you heard of a frolicksome ditty, etc. A score two staves long in six-four time, in the key of B♭ Major.
Macheath	How happy could I be with either, Were t’other dear charmer away! But while you thus tease me together, To neither a word will I say; But tol de rol, etc.
Polly	Sure, my dear, there ought to be some preference shown 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	O 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.
Air XXXV. Irish trot. A score two staves long in six-four time, in the key of G Major.
Polly	I am bubbled.
Lucy	I’m bubbled.
Polly	O how I am troubled!
Lucy	Bambouzled, and bit!
Polly	My distresses are doubled.
Lucy	When you come to the Tree, should the hangman refuse, These fingers, with pleasure, could fasten the noose.
Polly	I’m bubbled, etc.
Macheath	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?
Macheath	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, ’tis barbarous in you to worry a gentleman in his circumstances.
Air XXXVI. A score two staves long in six-eight time, in the key of G Major.
Polly	Cease your funning; Force or cunning Never shall my heart trapan. All these sallies Are but malice To seduce my constant man. ’Tis most certain, By their flirting Women oft’ have envy shown. Pleased, to ruin Others wooing; Never happy in their own.
Polly	Decency, madam, methinks might teach you to behave yourself with some reserve with the husband, while his wife is present.
Macheath	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 show 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.
Air XXXVII. Good-morrow, gossip Joan. A score two staves long in four-four time, in the key of E Major.
Lucy	Why how now, madam Flirt? If you thus must chatter; And are for flinging dirt, Let’s try who best can spatter; Madam Flirt.
Polly	Why how now, saucy jade; Sure the wench is tipsy! How can you see me made To him. The scoff of such a gipsy? Saucy jade! To her.
	Enter Peachum.
Peachum	Where’s my wench? Ah hussy! Hussy!⁠—Come you home, you slut; and when your fellow is hanged, hang yourself, to make your family some amends.
Polly	Dear, dear father, do not tear me from him⁠—I must speak; I have more to say to him⁠—Oh! twist thy fetters about me, that he may not haul me from thee!
Peachum	Sure all women are alike! If ever they commit the folly, they are sure to commit another by exposing themselves⁠—Away⁠—Not a word more⁠—You are my prisoner, now, hussy.
Air XXXVIII. Irish howl. A score three staves long in four-four time, in the key of F Major.
Polly	No power on earth can e’er divide The knot that sacred love hath tied. When parents draw against our mind, The truelove’s knot they faster bind. Oh, oh ray, oh amborah⁠—oh, oh, etc. Holding Macheath, Peachum pulling her.