[Music]

_Polly._ A Curse attend that Woman's Love, Who always would be pleasing.

_Lucy._ The Pertness of the billing Dove, Like Tickling, is but teazing.

_Polly._ What then in Love can Woman do:

_Lucy._ If we grow fond they shun us.

_Polly._ And when we fly them, they pursue:

_Lucy._ But leave us when they've won us.

_Lucy._ Love is so very whimsical in both s.e.xes, that it is impossible to be lasting. --But my Heart is particular, and contradicts my own Observation.

_Polly._ But really, Mistress _Lucy_, by his last Behaviour, I think I ought to envy you. --When I was forc'd from him, he did not shew the least Tenderness. --But perhaps, he hath a Heart not capable of it.

AIR XLIX. Would Fate to me _Belinda_ give.

[Music]

Among the Men, Coquettes we find, Who court by turns all Woman-kind; And we grant all their Hearts desir'd, When they are flatter'd, and admir'd.

The Coquettes of both s.e.xes are Self-lovers, and that is a Love no other whatever can dispossess. I hear, my dear _Lucy_, our Husband is one of those.

_Lucy._ Away with these melancholy Reflections,-- indeed, my dear _Polly_, we are both of us a Cup too low-- Let me prevail upon you to accept of my Offer.

AIR L. Come, sweet La.s.s.

[Music]

Come, sweet La.s.s, Let's banish Sorrow 'Till To-morrow; Come, sweet La.s.s, Let's take a chirping Gla.s.s.

Wine can clear The Vapours of Despair And make us light as Air; Then drink, and banish Care.

I can't bear, Child, to see you in such low Spirits. --And I must persuade you to what I know will do you good. [Aside.] I shall now soon be even with the hypocrytical Strumpet. [Exit.

_Polly._ All this Wheedling of _Lucy_ cannot be for nothing. --At this time too! when I know she hates me! --The Dissembling of a Woman is always the Forerunner of Mischief. --By pouring Strong-Waters down my Throat, she thinks to pump some Secrets out of me,-- I'll be upon my Guard, and won't taste a Drop of her Liquor, I'm resolv'd.

Re-enter _Lucy_, with Strong-Waters.

_Lucy._ Come, Miss _Polly_.

_Polly._ Indeed, Child, you have given yourself trouble to no purpose.

--You must, my Dear, excuse me.

_Lucy._ Really, Miss _Polly_, you are as squeamishly affected about taking a Cup of Strong-Waters as a Lady before Company. I vow, _Polly_, I shall take it monstrously ill if you refuse me. --Brandy and Men (though Women love them ever so well) are always taken by us with some Reluctance-- unless 'tis in private.

_Polly._ I protest, Madam, it goes against me. --What do I see!

_Macheath_ again in Custody! --Now every Glimm'ring of Happiness is lost.

[Drops the Gla.s.s of Liquor on the Ground.

_Lucy._ Since things are thus, I'm glad the Wench hath escap'd: for by this Event, 'tis plain, she was not happy enough to deserve to be poison'd.

Enter _Lockit_, _Macheath_, _Peachum_.

_Lockit._ Set your Heart to rest, Captain. --You have neither the Chance of Love or Money for another Escape,-- for you are order'd to be call'd down upon your Trial immediately.

_Peachum._ Away, Hussies! --This is not a Time for a Man to be hamper'd with his Wives. --You see, the Gentleman is in Chains already.

_Lucy._ O Husband, Husband, my Heart long'd to see thee; but to see thee thus distracts me?

_Polly._ Will not my dear Husband look upon his _Polly_? Why hadst thou not flown to me for Protection? with me thou hadst been safe.

AIR LI. The last time I went o'er the Moor.

[Music]

_Polly._ Hither, dear Husband, turn your Eyes.

_Lucy._ Bestow one Glance to cheer me.

_Polly._ Think with that Look, thy _Polly_ dies.

_Lucy._ O shun me not-- but hear me.

_Polly._ 'Tis _Polly_ sues.

_Lucy._ --'Tis _Lucy_ speaks.

_Polly._ Is thus true Love requited?

_Lucy._ My Heart is bursting.

_Polly._ --Mine too breaks.

_Lucy._ Must I

_Polly._ --Must I be slighted?

_Macheath._ What would you have me say, Ladies? --You see this affair will soon be at an end, without my disobliging either of you.

_Peachum._ But the settling this Point, Captain, might prevent a Law-Suit between your two Widows.

AIR LII. _Tom Tinker's_ my true Love.