In Revenge for her Loss of Bacon.
Then she throws him
To the Dog or Cat,
To be worried, crush'd 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 ruin'd.

AIR XXVII. 'Twas when the Sea was roaring, &c.

[Music]

How cruel are the Traitors,
Who lye 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 perjur'd 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 you
promis'd me.

_Macheath._ A jealous Woman believes every thing her Passion suggests.
To convince you of my Sincerity, if we can find the Ordinary, I shall
have no Scruples of making you my Wife; and I know the Consequence of
having two at a time.

_Lucy._ That you are only to be hang'd, and so get rid of them both.

_Macheath._ I am ready, my dear _Lucy_, to give you Satisfaction-- if
you think there is any in Marriage. --What can a Man of Honour say more?

_Lucy._ So then, it seems, you are not married to Miss _Polly_.

_Macheath._ You know, _Lucy_, the Girl is prodigiously conceited