Enter 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-fingered 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. Coloured 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 fair 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 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 firft fact I'll infure thee from being hanged; and going to fea, Filch, will come time enough upon a Tentence of tranfportation. But now, fince you have nothing better to do, even go to your book, and learn your catechifm's for really a man makes but an ill figure in the ordinary's paper, who cannot give a fatisfactory anfwer to his questions. But, hark you, my lad, don't tell me a lie; for you know I hate a liar. 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 muft either tell a lie to you, or to Mifs Polly; for I promised her I would not tell.

Mrs.

Mrs. Peach. But when the honour of our family is concerned

Filch. I fhall lead a fad life with Mifs Polly, if ever The comes 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 glass of a moft delicious cordial that I keep for my own drinking. [Exeunt.

Enter Peachum and 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 refuse what is moft material, will make but a poor hand of her beauty, and foon be thrown upon the

common.

AIR VI. What shall I do to show how much I love her ?

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

But, when once pluck'd, 'tis no longer alluring,
To Covent-garden 'tis fent, (as yet fweet)
There fades, and fhrinks, and grows past all en-
during,

Rots, 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.

Enter

Enter Mrs. Peachum.

AIR VII. O London is a fine town.

Mrs. Peachum, [in a very great passion.]

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

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

With fearfs and stays, and gloves and lace; and flie will have men befide;

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

As men fhould ferve a cucumber, the flings herself away.

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, hufband.

Peach. Married? The Captain is 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 fhould 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 hath played the fool and married, because forfooth fhe would do like the gentry. Can you fupport the expence of a husband, huffy, in gaming, drinking, and whoring? Have you money enough to carry on the daily quarrels of man and wife about who fhall fquander moft? There are not many husbands and wives, who can bear the charges of plaguing one another in a handsome 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 used, 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 himself in the military capacity, as a gentleman by his profeffion. Besides what he hath already, I know he is in a fair way of getting or of dying; and both thefe ways, let me teil

B

you,

you, are most excellent chances for a wife. Tell me, hufly, are you ruin'd, or no?

Mrs. Peach. With Polly's fortune, fhe 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 pleature 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 house.

Polly.

AIR VIII. Grim king of the ghofts, &c.

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 he kist me fo fweetly he prest,
'Twas so sweet, that I must have complied:
So I thought it both fafeft and best

To marry, for fear you fhould chide.

Mrs. Peach. Then all the hopes of our family are gone for ever and ever!

Peach. And Macheath may hang his father and mother-in-law, in hopes to get into their daughter's fortune.

Polly. I did not marry him (as 'tis the fashion) cooly and deliberately for honour or money-But, I love him. Mrs. Peach. Love him! worse and worse! I thought the girl had been better bred. Oh, husband, hufband! her folly makes me mad! my head fwims! I'm distracted! I can't fupport myfelf-Oh! [Faints. Peach. See, wench, to what a condition you have reduced your poor mother! A glafs of cordial, this inftant. How the poor woman takes it to heart!

[Polly goes out, and returns with it.

Ah,

Ah, huffy, now this is the only comfort your mother has left.

Polly. Give her another glass, Sir; my mama drinks double the quantity whenever she is out of order. This, you fee, fetches her.

Mrs. Peach. The girl fhows fuch a readiness, and so much concern, that I could almost find in my heart to forgive her.

AIR IX. O Jenny, O Jenny, where haft thou been ?

Pelly,

O Polly, you might have toy'd and kist.
By keeping men off, you keep them on.
But he fo teaz'd me,

And he fo pleas'd me,

What I did, you must have done.

Mrs. Peach. Not with a high-waymanry flut !

-You for

Peach. A word with you, wife. 'Tis no new thing for a wench to take man without confent of parents. You know 'tis the frailty of woman, my dear.

Mrs. Peach. Yes, indeed, the fex is frail. But the first time a woman is frail, the fhould be fomewhat nice nrethinks, for then or never is the time to make her fortune. After that, he hath nothing to do but to guard herself from being found out, and the may do what she pleases.

Peach, Make yourself a little eafy; I have a thought fhall foon fet all matters again to rights. Why fo melancholy, Polly, fince what is done cannot be undone, we must all endeavour to make the best of it.

Mrs. Peach. Well, Polly; as far as one woman can forgive another, I forgive thee.--Your father is too fond of you, huffy.

Polly. Then all my forrows are at an end.

Mrs. Peach. A mighty likely speech, in troth, for a wench who is just married!

Polly.

AIR X. Thomas, I cannot, &c.

I like a ship in ftorms, was toft;
Yet afraid to put into land;

For feiz'd in the port the veffel's loft,
Whofe treasure is contreband.

B. 2

The