|our own affairs, therefore let us have no more||60|
Ourselves, like the great, to secure a retreat,
When matters require it, must give up our gang:
And good reason why,
Ev'n Peachum and I,
Or, instead of the fry, 65
Like poor petty rascals, might hang, hang;
Like poor petty rascals might hang.
PEACH. Set your heart at rest, Polly. Your hus
|band is to die today. Therefore, if you are not||70|
LOCK. We are ready, sir, to conduct you to the Old Bailey.
MACH. The charge is prepared; the lawyers are
A debt on demand. So, take what I owe. Then farewell, my love -- dear charmers, adieu!
|Contented I die -- 'tis the better for you.||80|
LUCY, POLLY, FILCH.
POLLY. Follow them, Filch, to the court. And when the trial is over, bring me a particular account of his behavior, and of everything that happened. You'll find me here with Miss Lucy. Exit FILCH.
|But why is all this music?||5|
LUCY. The prisoners whose trials are put off till next session are diverting themselves.
POLLY. Sure there is nothing so charming as music! I'm fond of it to distraction! -- But alas! now, all
|mirth seems an insult upon my affliction. -- Let||10|
A dance of prisoners in chains, etc.
The condemned hold.
MACHEATH, in a melancholy posture.
O cruel, cruel, cruel case!
Must I suffer this disgrace?
Of all the friends in time of grief,
When threat'ning death looks grimmer,
|Not one so sure can bring relief,||5|
AIR LVI] 01 (some copies) om. Entire air.