The Beggar's Opera Part 4

A Fox may steal your Hens, Sir, A Wh.o.r.e your Health and Pence, Sir, Your Daughter rob your Chest, Sir, Your Wife may steal your Rest, Sir.

A Thief your Goods and Plate.

But this is all but picking, With Rest, Pence, Chest and Chicken; It ever was decreed, Sir, If Lawyer's Hand is fee'd, Sir, He steals your whole Estate.

The Lawyers are bitter Enemies to those in our Way. They don't care that any body should get a clandestine Livelihood but themselves.

Enter _Polly_.

_Polly._ 'Twas only _Nimming Ned_. He brought in a Damask Window-Curtain, a Hoop-Petticoat, a pair of Silver Candlesticks, a Periwig, and one Silk Stocking, from the Fire that happen'd last Night.

_Peachum._ There is not a Fellow that is cleverer in his way, and saves more Goods out of the Fire than _Ned_. But now, _Polly_, to your Affair; for Matters must not be left as they are. You are married then, it seems?

_Polly._ Yes, Sir.

_Peachum._ And how do you propose to live, Child?

_Polly._ Like other Women, Sir, upon the Industry of my Husband.

_Mrs. Peachum._ What, is the Wench turn'd Fool? A Highwayman's Wife, like a Soldier's, hath as little of his Pay, as of his Company.

_Peachum._ And had not you the common Views of a Gentlewoman in your Marriage, _Polly_?

_Polly._ I don't know what you mean, Sir.

_Peachum._ Of a Jointure, and of being a Widow.

_Polly._ But I love him, Sir; how then could I have Thoughts of parting with him?

_Peachum._ Parting with him! Why, this is the whole Scheme and Intention of all Marriage-Articles. The comfortable Estate of Widow-hood, is the only Hope that keeps up a Wife's Spirits. Where is the Woman who would scruple to be a Wife, if she had it in her Power to be a Widow, whenever she pleas'd? If you have any Views of this sort, _Polly_, I shall think the Match not so very unreasonable.

_Polly._ How I dread to hear your Advice! Yet I must beg you to explain yourself.

_Peachum._ Secure what he hath got, have him peach'd the next Sessions, 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.

_Peachum._ Fie, _Polly_! What hath Murder to do in the Affair? Since the thing sooner or later must happen, I dare say, the Captain himself would like that we should get the Reward for his Death sooner than a Stranger.

Why, _Polly_, the Captain knows, that as 'tis his Employment to rob, so 'tis ours to take Robbers; every Man in his Business. So that there is no Malice in the Case.

_Mrs. Peachum._ Ay, Husband, now you have nick'd the Matter. To have him peach'd is the only thing could ever make me forgive her.

AIR XII. Now ponder well, ye Parents dear.

[Music]

_Polly._ O ponder well! be not severe; So save a wretched Wife!

For on the Rope that hangs my Dear Depends poor _Polly's_ Life.

_Mrs. Peachum._ But your Duty to your Parents, Hussy, obliges you to hang him. What would many a Wife give for such an Opportunity!

_Polly._ What is a Jointure, what is Widow-hood to me? I know my Heart.

I cannot survive him.

AIR XIII. Le printems rapelle aux armes.

[Music]

The Turtle thus with plaintive Crying, Her Lover dying, The Turtle thus with plaintive Crying, Laments her Dove.

Down she drops quite spent with Sighing.

Pair'd in Death, as pair'd in Love.

Thus, Sir, it will happen to your poor _Polly_.

_Mrs. Peachum._ What, is the Fool in Love in earnest then? I hate thee for being particular: Why, Wench, thou art a Shame to thy very s.e.x.

_Polly._ But hear me, Mother. --If you ever lov'd--

_Mrs. Peachum._ Those cursed Play-Books she reads have been her Ruin.

One Word more, Hussy, and I shall knock your Brains out, if you have any.

_Peachum._ Keep out of the way, _Polly_, for fear of Mischief, and consider of what is proposed to you.

_Mrs. Peachum._ Away, Hussy. Hang your Husband, and be dutiful.

[Exit _Polly_.

Re-enter _Polly_, and listens behind column.

_Mrs. Peachum._ The Thing, Husband, must and shall be done. For the sake of Intelligence we must take other measures, and have him peached the next Session without her Consent. If she will not know her Duty, we know ours.

_Peachum._ But really, my Dear, it grieves one's Heart to take off a great Man. When I consider his Personal Bravery, his fine Stratagem, 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 a hand in his Death. I wish you could have made _Polly_ undertake it.

_Mrs. Peachum._ But in a Case of Necessity-- our own Lives are in danger.

_Peachum._ Then, indeed, we must comply with the Customs of the World, and make Grat.i.tude give way to Interest. --He shall be taken off.

_Mrs. Peachum._ I'll undertake to manage _Polly_.

_Peachum._ And I'll prepare Matters for the _Old-Baily_.

[Exeunt severally.

_Polly._ Now I'm a Wretch, indeed. --Methinks I see him already in the Cart, sweeter and more lovely than the Nosegay in his Hand! --I hear the Crowd extolling his Resolution and Intrepidity! --What Vollies of Sighs are sent from the Windows of _Holborn_, that so comely a Youth should be brought to Disgrace! --I see him at the Tree! The whole Circle are in Tears! --even Butchers weep! --_Jack Ketch_ himself hesitates to perform his Duty, and would be glad to lose his Fee, by a Reprieve. What then will become of _Polly_! --As yet I may inform him of their Design, and aid him in his Escape. --It shall be so-- But then he flies, absents himself, and I bar myself from his dear dear Conversation! That too will distract me. --If he keep out of the way, my Papa and Mama may in time relent, and we may be happy. --If he stays, he is hang'd, and then he is lost for ever! --He intended to lie conceal'd in my Room, 'till the Dusk of the Evening: If they are abroad I'll this Instant let him out, lest some Accident should prevent him.

[Exit, and returns with _Macheath_.