ike 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 pass'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.

_Polly._ --My Dear, with you.

_Macheath._ O leave me to Thought! I fear! I doubt!
I tremble! I droop! --See, my Courage is out.

[Turns up the empty Bottle.

_Polly._ No Token of Love?

_Macheath._ --See, my Courage is out.

[Turns up the empty Pot.

_Lucy._ No Token of Love?

_Polly._ --Adieu.

_Lucy._ --Farewell.

_Macheath._ But hark! I hear the Toll of the Bell.

_Chorus._ Tol de rol lol, &c.

_Jailor._ Four Women more, Captain, with a Child apiece! See, here they
come.

[Enter Women and Childr