The Beggar's Opera [13]
our Acquaintance for nothing, when our Betters will hardly save theirs without being paid for it. Unless the People in Employment pay better, I promise them for the future, I shall let other Rogues live besides their own.
LOCKIT. Perhaps, Brother, they are afraid these Matters may be carried too far. We are treated too by them with Contempt, as if our Profession were not reputable.
PEACHUM. In one respect indeed our Employment may be reckon'd dishonest, because, like Great Statesmen, we encourage those who betray their Friends.
LOCKIT. Such Language, Brother, any where else, might turn to your Prejudice. Learn to be more guarded, I beg you.
AIR XXIX. How happy are we, &c.
When you censure the Age, Be cautious and sage, Lest the Courtiers offended should be: If you mention Vice or Bribe, 'Tis so pat to all the Tribe; Each cries--That was levell'd at me.
PEACHUM. Here's poor Ned Clincher's Name, I see. Sure, Brother Lockit, there was a little unfair Proceeding in Ned's Case: for he told me in the Condemn'd Hold, that for Value receiv'd, you had promis'd him a Session or two longer without Molestation.
LOCKIT. Mr. Peachum--this is the first time my Honour was ever call'd in Question.
PEACHUM. Business is at an end--if once we act dishonourably.
LOCKIT. Who accuses me?
PEACHUM. You are warm, Brother.
LOCKIT. He that attacks my Honour, attacks my Livelihood.--And this Usage--Sir--is not to be borne.
PEACHUM. Since you provoke me to speak--I must tell you too, that Mrs. Coaxer charges you with defrauding her of her Information-Money, for the apprehending of curl-pated Hugh. Indeed, indeed, Brother, we must punctually pay our Spies, or we shall have no Information.
LOCKIT. Is this Language to me, Sirrah,--who have sav'd you from the Gallows, Sirrah!
[Collaring each other.]
PEACHUM. If I am hang'd, it shall be for ridding the World of an arrant Rascal.
LOCKIT. This Hand shall do the Office of the Halter you deserve, and throttle you--you Dog! -
PEACHUM. Brother, Brother--We are both in the Wrong--We shall be both Losers in the Dispute--for you know we have it in our Power to hang each other. You should not be so passionate.
LOCKIT. Nor you so provoking.
PEACHUM. 'Tis our mutual Interest; 'tis for the Interest of the World we should agree. If I said any thing, Brother, to the Prejudice of your Character, I ask pardon.
LOCKIT. Brother Peachum--I can forgive as well as resent.--Give me your Hand. Suspicion does not become a Friend.
PEACHUM. I only meant to give you Occasion to justify yourself: But I must now step home, for I expect the Gentleman about this Snuff- box, that Filch nimm'd two Nights ago in the Park. I appointed him at this Hour.
[Exit Peachum.]
[Enter Lucy.]
LOCKIT. Whence come you, Hussy?
LUCY. My Tears might answer that Question.
LOCKIT. You have then been whimpering and fondling, like a Spaniel, over the Fellow that hath abus'd you.
LUCY. One can't help Love; one can't cure it. 'Tis not in my Power to obey you, and hate him.
LOCKIT. Learn to bear your Husband's Death like a reasonable Woman. 'Tis not the fashion, now-a-days, so much as to affect Sorrow upon these Occasions. No Woman would ever marry, if she had not the Chance of Mortality for a Release. Act like a Woman of Spirit, Hussy, and thank your Father for what he is doing.
AIR XXX. Of a noble Race was Shenkin.
LUCY. Is then his Fate decreed, Sir? 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.
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
LOCKIT. Perhaps, Brother, they are afraid these Matters may be carried too far. We are treated too by them with Contempt, as if our Profession were not reputable.
PEACHUM. In one respect indeed our Employment may be reckon'd dishonest, because, like Great Statesmen, we encourage those who betray their Friends.
LOCKIT. Such Language, Brother, any where else, might turn to your Prejudice. Learn to be more guarded, I beg you.
AIR XXIX. How happy are we, &c.
When you censure the Age, Be cautious and sage, Lest the Courtiers offended should be: If you mention Vice or Bribe, 'Tis so pat to all the Tribe; Each cries--That was levell'd at me.
PEACHUM. Here's poor Ned Clincher's Name, I see. Sure, Brother Lockit, there was a little unfair Proceeding in Ned's Case: for he told me in the Condemn'd Hold, that for Value receiv'd, you had promis'd him a Session or two longer without Molestation.
LOCKIT. Mr. Peachum--this is the first time my Honour was ever call'd in Question.
PEACHUM. Business is at an end--if once we act dishonourably.
LOCKIT. Who accuses me?
PEACHUM. You are warm, Brother.
LOCKIT. He that attacks my Honour, attacks my Livelihood.--And this Usage--Sir--is not to be borne.
PEACHUM. Since you provoke me to speak--I must tell you too, that Mrs. Coaxer charges you with defrauding her of her Information-Money, for the apprehending of curl-pated Hugh. Indeed, indeed, Brother, we must punctually pay our Spies, or we shall have no Information.
LOCKIT. Is this Language to me, Sirrah,--who have sav'd you from the Gallows, Sirrah!
[Collaring each other.]
PEACHUM. If I am hang'd, it shall be for ridding the World of an arrant Rascal.
LOCKIT. This Hand shall do the Office of the Halter you deserve, and throttle you--you Dog! -
PEACHUM. Brother, Brother--We are both in the Wrong--We shall be both Losers in the Dispute--for you know we have it in our Power to hang each other. You should not be so passionate.
LOCKIT. Nor you so provoking.
PEACHUM. 'Tis our mutual Interest; 'tis for the Interest of the World we should agree. If I said any thing, Brother, to the Prejudice of your Character, I ask pardon.
LOCKIT. Brother Peachum--I can forgive as well as resent.--Give me your Hand. Suspicion does not become a Friend.
PEACHUM. I only meant to give you Occasion to justify yourself: But I must now step home, for I expect the Gentleman about this Snuff- box, that Filch nimm'd two Nights ago in the Park. I appointed him at this Hour.
[Exit Peachum.]
[Enter Lucy.]
LOCKIT. Whence come you, Hussy?
LUCY. My Tears might answer that Question.
LOCKIT. You have then been whimpering and fondling, like a Spaniel, over the Fellow that hath abus'd you.
LUCY. One can't help Love; one can't cure it. 'Tis not in my Power to obey you, and hate him.
LOCKIT. Learn to bear your Husband's Death like a reasonable Woman. 'Tis not the fashion, now-a-days, so much as to affect Sorrow upon these Occasions. No Woman would ever marry, if she had not the Chance of Mortality for a Release. Act like a Woman of Spirit, Hussy, and thank your Father for what he is doing.
AIR XXX. Of a noble Race was Shenkin.
LUCY. Is then his Fate decreed, Sir? 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.
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