The Beggar's Opera - Part 17
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Part 17

AIR LIX. _Britons_ strike home.

[Music]

Since I must swing,-- I scorn, I scorn to wince or whine.

[Rises.

AIR LX. Chevy Chase.

[Music]

But now again my Spirits sink; I'll raise them high with Wine. [Drinks a Gla.s.s of Wine.

AIR LXI. To old Sir _Simon_ the King.

[Music]

But Valour the stronger grows, The stronger Liquor we'er drinking; And how can we feel our Woes, When we've lost the Trouble of Thinking? [Drinks.

AIR LXII. Joy to Great _Caesar_.

[Music]

If thus-- A Man can die Much bolder with Brandy. [Pours out a b.u.mper of Brandy.

AIR LXIII. There was an old Woman.

[Music]

So I drink off this b.u.mper. --And now I can stand the Test, And my Comrades shall see, that I die as brave as the Best.

[Drinks.

AIR LXIV. Did you ever hear of a gallant Sailor.

[Music]

But can I leave my pretty Hussies, Without one Tear, or tender Sigh?

AIR LXV. Why are mine Eyes still flowing.

[Music]

Their Eyes, their Lips, their Busses Recall my Love,-- Ah must I die!

AIR LXVI. Green Sleeves.

[Music]

Since Laws were made for ev'ry Degree, To curb Vice in others, as well as me, I wonder we han't better Company, Upon _Tyburn_ Tree!

But Gold from Law can take out the Sting; And if rich Men like us were to swing, 'Twou'd thin the Land, such Numbers to string Upon _Tyburn_ Tree!

_Jailor._ Some Friends of yours, Captain, desire to be admitted-- I leave you together.

Enter _Ben Budge_, _Matt of the Mint_.

_Macheath._ For my having broke Prison, you see, Gentlemen, I am order'd immediate Execution. --The Sheriff's Officers, I believe, are now at the Door. --That _Jemmy Twitcher_ should peach me, I own surpris'd me!

--'Tis a plain Proof that the World is all alike, and that even our Gang can no more trust one another than other People. Therefore, I beg you, Gentlemen, look well to yourselves, for in all probability you may live some Months longer.

_Matt._ We are heartily sorry, Captain, for your Misfortune. --But 'tis what we must all come to.

_Macheath._ _Peachum_ and _Lockit_, you know, are infamous Scoundrels.

Their Lives are as much in your Power, as yours are in theirs.

--Remember your dying Friend! --'Tis my last Request. --Bring those Villains to the Gallows before you, and I am satisfied.

_Matt._ We'll do't.

_Jailor._ Miss _Polly_ and Miss _Lucy_ intreat a Word with you.

_Macheath._ Gentlemen, adieu.

[Exeunt _Ben Budge_ and _Matt_.

Enter _Lucy_ and _Polly_.

_Macheath._ My dear _Lucy_-- My dear _Polly_-- Whatsoever hath pa.s.s'd between us is now at an end-- If you are fond of marrying again, the best Advice I can give you, is to Ship yourselves off for the _West-Indies_, where you'll have a fair Chance of getting a Husband a-piece, or by good Luck, two or three, as you like best.

_Polly._ How can I support this Sight!

_Lucy._ There is nothing moves one so much as a great Man in Distress.

AIR LXVII. All you that must take a Leap, &c.

[Music]

_Lucy._ Would I might be hang'd!

_Polly._ --And I would so too!

_Lucy._ To be hang'd with you.