Chapter 4

Lucy, Macheath.

_Macheath_. I am naturally compassionate, Wife; so that I could not use the Wench as she deserv’d; which made you at first suspect there was something in what she said.

_Lucy_. Indeed, my Dear, I was strangely puzzled.

_Macheath_. If that had been the Case, her Father would never have brought me into this Circumstance—No, _Lucy_,—I had rather die than be false to thee.

_Lucy_. How happy am I, if you say this from your Heart! For I love thee so, that I could sooner bear to see thee hang’d than in the Arms of another.

_Macheath_. But could’st thou bear to see me hang’d?

_Lucy_. O _Macheath_, I can never live to see that Day.

_Macheath_. You see, _Lucy_; in the Account of Love you are in my Debt, and you must now be convinc’d, that I rather choose to die than be another’s.—Make me, if possible, love thee more, and let me owe my Life to thee—If you refuse to assist me, _Peachum_ and your Father will immediately put me beyond all means of Escape.

_Lucy_. My Father, I know, hath been drinking hard with the Prisoners: and I fancy he is now taking his Nap in his own Room—If I can procure the Keys, shall I go off with thee, my Dear?

_Macheath_. If we are together, ’twill be impossible to lie conceal’d. As soon as the Search begins to be a little cool, I will send to thee—’Till then my Heart is thy Prisoner.

_Lucy_. Come then, my dear Husband—owe thy Life to me—and though you love me not—be grateful,—but that _Polly_ runs in my Head strangely.

_Macheath_. A moment of Time may make us unhappy for ever.

AIR XXXIX. The Lass of _Patie’s_ Mill, &c.

Lucy. _I like the Fox shall grieve_, _Whose Mate hath left her Side_, _Whom Hounds from Morn to Eve_, _Chase o’er the Country wide_. _Where can my Lover hide_? _Where cheat the wary Pack_? _If Love be not his Guide_, _He never will come back_!

[_Exeunt_.