LUCY. What Love or Money can do shall be done: for all my Comfort depends
upon your Safety.
Scene 13.
LUCY, MACHEATH, 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 there 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! Imprison'd! 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 XXXIV.--All in the Downs, &c.
Thus when the Swallow, seeking Prey,
Within the Sash is closely pent,
His Comfort, with bemoaning Lay,
Without sits pining for th' Event.
Her chatt'ring Lovers all around her skim;
She heeds them not (poor Bird!) her Soul's with him.
MACHEATH. I must disown her. [Aside] The wench is distracted.
LUCY. Am I then bilk'd of my Virtue? Can I have no Reparation? Sure Men
were born to lie, and Women to believe them! O Villain! Villain!
POLLY. Am I not thy Wife?----Thy Neglect of me, thy Aversion to me too
severely proves it.
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