The Beggar’s Opera

trusted me as well as Jenny Diver. Mrs. Slammekin I am sure at least three men of his hanging, and in a year’s time too (if he did me justice) should be set down to my account. Trull Mrs. Slammekin, that is not fair. For you know one of them was taken in bed with me. Jenny As far as a bowl of punch or a treat, I believe Mrs. Suky will join with me.⁠—As for anything else, ladies, you cannot in conscience expect it. Mrs. Slammekin Dear madam⁠— Trull I would not for the world⁠— Mrs. Slammekin ’Tis impossible for me⁠— Trull As I hope to be saved, madam⁠— Mrs. Slammekin Nay, then I must stay here all night⁠— Trull Since you command me. Exeunt with great ceremony.

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.
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.
	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.
	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