Such a Man can I think of quitting?
When first we met, so moves me yet,
O see how my Heart is splitting!

_Lockit._ Look ye, _Lucy_-- There is no saving him. --So, I think, you
must ev'n do like other Widows-- buy yourself Weeds, and be chearful.

AIR XXXI.

[Music]

You'll think ere many Days ensue
This Sentence not severe;
I hang your Husband, Child, 'tis true,
But with him hang your Care.
Twang dang dillo dee.

Like a good Wife, go moan over your dying Husband. That, Child is your
Duty-- Consider, Girl, you can't have the Man and the Money too-- so
make yourself as easy as you can, by getting all you can from him.

[Exit _Lockit_.

Enter _Macheath_.

_Lucy._ Though the Ordinary was out of the way to-day, I hope, my Dear,
you will, upon the first Opportunity, quiet my Scruples-- Oh Sir! --my
Father's hard heart is not to be soften'd, and I am in the utmost
Despair.

_Macheath._ But if I could raise a small Sum-- Would not twenty Guineas,
think you, move him? --Of all the Arguments in the way of Business, the
Perquisite is the most prevailing-- Your Father's Perquisites for the
Escape of Prisoners must amount to a considerable Sum in the Year. Money
well tim'd, and properly apply'd, will do any thing.

AIR XXXII. _London_ Ladies.

[Music]

If you at an Office solicit your Due,
And would not have Matters neglected;
You must quicken the Clerk with the Perquisite too,
To do what his Duty directed.

Or would you the Frowns of a Lady prevent,
She too has this palpable Failing,
The Perquisite softens her into Consent;
That Reason with all is prevailing.

_Lucy._ What Love or Money can do shall be done: for all my Comfort
depends upon your Safety.

Enter _Polly_.

_Polly._ Where is my dear Husband? --Was a Rope ever intended for this
Neck! --O let me throw my Arms about it, and throttle thee with Love!
--Why dost thou turn away from me? 'Tis thy _Polly_-- 'Tis thy Wife.

_Macheath._ Was ever such an unfortunate Rascal as I am!

_Lucy._ Was there ever such another Villain!

_Polly._ O _Macheath_! was it for this we parted? Taken! Imprisoned!
Try'd! Hang'd-- cruel Reflection! I'll stay with thee 'till Death-- no
Force shall tear thy dear Wife from thee now. --What means my Love?
--Not one kind Word! not one kind Look! think what thy _Polly_ suffers
to see thee in this Condition.

AIR XXXIII. All in the Downs, &c.

[Music]

Th