Pretty Polly, say,
When I was away,
Did your Fancy never stray
To some newer Lover?
POLLY.
Without Disguise,
Heaving Sighs,
Doting Eyes,
My constant Heart discover,
Fondly let me loll!
MACHEATH.
O pretty, pretty Poll.
POLLY. And are you as fond as ever, my Dear?
MACHEATH. Suspect my Honour, my Courage, suspect any thing but my Love.--
--May my Pistols miss Fire, and my Mare slip her Shoulder while I am
pursu'd, if I ever forsake thee!
POLLY. Nay, my Dear, I have no Reason to doubt you, for I find in the
Romance you lent me, none of the great Heroes were ever false in Love.
Air XV.--Pray, Fair one, be kind----
MACHEATH.
My Heart was so free,
It rov'd like the Bee,
'Till Polly my Passion requited;
I sipt each Flower,
I chang'd ev'ry Hour,
But here ev'ry Flow'r is united.
POLLY. Were you sentenc'd to Transportation, sure, my Dear, you could
not leave me behind you----could you?
MACHEATH. Is there any Power, any Force that could tear me from thee? You
might sooner tear a Pension out of the hands of a Courtier, a Fee from a
Lawyer, a pretty Woman from a Looking-glass, or any Woman from Quadrille.
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