The Beggar's Opera [19]
Mr. Peachum, that Watch was remarkable, and not of very safe Sale.--If you have any black Velvet Scarfs--they are a handsom Winter-wear, and take with most Gentlemen who deal with my Customers.--'Tis I that put the Ladies upon a good Foot. 'Tis not Youth or Beauty that fixes their Price. The Gentlemen always pay according to their Dress, from half a Crown to two Guineas; and yet those Hussies make nothing of bilking of me.--Then too, allowing for Accidents.--I have eleven fine Customers now down under the Surgeon's Hands--what with Fees and other Expenses, there are great Goings-out, and no Comings in, and not a Farthing to pay for at least a Month's Clothing.--We run great Risques--great Risques indeed.
PEACHUM. As I remember, you said something just now of Mrs. Coaxer.
MRS. TRAPES. Yes, Sir.--To be sure I stript her of a Suit of my own Clothes about two Hours ago; and have left her as she should be, in her Shift, with a Lover of hers at my House. She call'd him up Stairs, as he was going to Mary-bone in a Hackney Coach.--And I hope, for her own sake and mine, she will persuade the Captain to redeem her, for the Captain is very generous to the Ladies.
LOCKIT. What Captain?
MRS. TRAPES. He thought I did not know him--An intimate Acquaintance of yours, Mr. Peachum--Only Captain Macheath--as fine as a Lord.
PEACHUM. To-morrow, dear Mrs. Dye, you shall set your own Price upon any of the Goods you like--We have at least half a Dozen Velvet Scarfs, and all at your Service. Will you give me leave to make you a Present of this Suit of Night-clothes for your own wearing?--But are you sure it is Captain Macheath.
MRS. TRAPES. Though he thinks I have forgot him; no body knows him better. I have taken a great deal of the Captain's Money in my Time at second-hand, for he always lov'd to have his Ladies well drest.
PEACHUM. Mr. Lockit and I have a little Business with the Captain;-- You understand me--and we will satisfy you for Mrs. Coaxer's Debt.
LOCKIT. Depend upon it--we will deal like Men of Honour.
MRS. TRAPES. I don't enquire after your Affairs--so whatever happens, I wash my Hands on't--It hath always been my Maxim, that one Friend should assist another--But if you please--I'll take one of the Scarfs home with me. 'Tis always good to have something in Hand.
SCENE IV. Newgate.
LUCY. Jealousy, Rage, Love and Fear are at once tearing me to pieces, How I am weather-beaten and shatter'd with Distresses!
AIR XLVI. One Evening, having lost my Way, &c.
I'm like a Skiff on the Ocean tost, Now high, now low, with each Billow born, With her Rudder broke, and her Anchor lost, Deserted and all forlorn. While thus I lie rolling and tossing all Night, That Polly lies sporting on Seas of Delight! Revenge, Revenge, Revenge, Shall appease my restless Spirit.
I have the Rats-bane ready.--I run no Risque; for I can lay her Death upon the Ginn, and so many die of that naturally that I shall never be call'd in question.--But say, I were to be hang'd.--I never could be hang'd for any thing that would give me greater Comfort, than the poisoning that Slut.
[Enter Filch.]
FILCH. Madam, here's Miss Polly come to wait upon you.
LUCY. Show her in.
[Enter Polly.]
Dear Madam, your Servant.--I hope you will pardon my Passion, when I was so happy to see you last.--I was so over-run with the Spleen, that I was perfectly out of myself. And really when one hath the Spleen, every thing is to be excus'd by a Friend.
AIR XLVII. Now Roger, I'll tell thee because thou 'rt my Son.
When a Wife's in her Pout, (As she's sometimes, no doubt;) The good Husband as meek as a Lamb, Her Vapours to still, First grants her her Will, And the quieting Draught is a Dram. Poor Man! And the quieting Draught is a Dram.
- I wish all our Quarrels might have so comfortable a Reconciliation.
POLLY. I have no Excuse for my own Behaviour, Madam, but my Misfortunes.--And really, Madam, I suffer too upon your Account.
LUCY. But, Miss Polly--in the way of Friendship,
PEACHUM. As I remember, you said something just now of Mrs. Coaxer.
MRS. TRAPES. Yes, Sir.--To be sure I stript her of a Suit of my own Clothes about two Hours ago; and have left her as she should be, in her Shift, with a Lover of hers at my House. She call'd him up Stairs, as he was going to Mary-bone in a Hackney Coach.--And I hope, for her own sake and mine, she will persuade the Captain to redeem her, for the Captain is very generous to the Ladies.
LOCKIT. What Captain?
MRS. TRAPES. He thought I did not know him--An intimate Acquaintance of yours, Mr. Peachum--Only Captain Macheath--as fine as a Lord.
PEACHUM. To-morrow, dear Mrs. Dye, you shall set your own Price upon any of the Goods you like--We have at least half a Dozen Velvet Scarfs, and all at your Service. Will you give me leave to make you a Present of this Suit of Night-clothes for your own wearing?--But are you sure it is Captain Macheath.
MRS. TRAPES. Though he thinks I have forgot him; no body knows him better. I have taken a great deal of the Captain's Money in my Time at second-hand, for he always lov'd to have his Ladies well drest.
PEACHUM. Mr. Lockit and I have a little Business with the Captain;-- You understand me--and we will satisfy you for Mrs. Coaxer's Debt.
LOCKIT. Depend upon it--we will deal like Men of Honour.
MRS. TRAPES. I don't enquire after your Affairs--so whatever happens, I wash my Hands on't--It hath always been my Maxim, that one Friend should assist another--But if you please--I'll take one of the Scarfs home with me. 'Tis always good to have something in Hand.
SCENE IV. Newgate.
LUCY. Jealousy, Rage, Love and Fear are at once tearing me to pieces, How I am weather-beaten and shatter'd with Distresses!
AIR XLVI. One Evening, having lost my Way, &c.
I'm like a Skiff on the Ocean tost, Now high, now low, with each Billow born, With her Rudder broke, and her Anchor lost, Deserted and all forlorn. While thus I lie rolling and tossing all Night, That Polly lies sporting on Seas of Delight! Revenge, Revenge, Revenge, Shall appease my restless Spirit.
I have the Rats-bane ready.--I run no Risque; for I can lay her Death upon the Ginn, and so many die of that naturally that I shall never be call'd in question.--But say, I were to be hang'd.--I never could be hang'd for any thing that would give me greater Comfort, than the poisoning that Slut.
[Enter Filch.]
FILCH. Madam, here's Miss Polly come to wait upon you.
LUCY. Show her in.
[Enter Polly.]
Dear Madam, your Servant.--I hope you will pardon my Passion, when I was so happy to see you last.--I was so over-run with the Spleen, that I was perfectly out of myself. And really when one hath the Spleen, every thing is to be excus'd by a Friend.
AIR XLVII. Now Roger, I'll tell thee because thou 'rt my Son.
When a Wife's in her Pout, (As she's sometimes, no doubt;) The good Husband as meek as a Lamb, Her Vapours to still, First grants her her Will, And the quieting Draught is a Dram. Poor Man! And the quieting Draught is a Dram.
- I wish all our Quarrels might have so comfortable a Reconciliation.
POLLY. I have no Excuse for my own Behaviour, Madam, but my Misfortunes.--And really, Madam, I suffer too upon your Account.
LUCY. But, Miss Polly--in the way of Friendship,