Chapter 9

_Macheath_, in a melancholy Posture.

AIR LVII. Happy Groves.

[Music]

O cruel, cruel, cruel Case! Must I suffer this Disgrace?

AIR LVIII. Of all the Girls that are so smart.

[Music]

Of all the Friends in time of Grief, When threatning Death looks grimmer, Not one so sure can bring Relief, As this best Friend, a Brimmer. [Drinks.

AIR LIX. _Britons_ strike home.

[Music]

Since I must swing,-- I scorn, I scorn to wince or whine.

[Rises.

AIR LX. Chevy Chase.

[Music]

But now again my Spirits sink; I'll raise them high with Wine. [Drinks a Glass of Wine.

AIR LXI. To old Sir _Simon_ the King.

[Music]

But Valour the stronger grows, The stronger Liquor we'er drinking; And how can we feel our Woes, When we've lost the Trouble of Thinking? [Drinks.

AIR LXII. Joy to Great _Cæsar_.

[Music]

If thus-- A Man can die Much bolder with Brandy. [Pours out a Bumper of Brandy.

AIR LXIII. There was an old Woman.

[Music]

So I drink off this Bumper. --And now I can stand the Test, And my Comrades shall see, that I die as brave as the Best.

[Drinks.

AIR LXIV. Did you ever hear of a gallant Sailor.

[Music]

But can I leave my pretty Hussies, Without one Tear, or tender Sigh?

AIR LXV. Why are mine Eyes still flowing.

[Music]

Their Eyes, their Lips, their Busses Recall my Love,-- Ah must I die!

AIR LXVI. Green Sleeves.

[Music]

Since Laws were made for ev'ry Degree, To curb Vice in others, as well as me, I wonder we han't better Company, Upon _Tyburn_ Tree! But Gold from Law can take out the Sting; And if rich Men like us were to swing, 'Twou'd thin the Land, such Numbers to string Upon _Tyburn_ Tree!

_Jailor._ Some Friends of yours, Captain, desire to be admitted-- I leave you together.

Enter _Ben Budge_, _Matt of the Mint_.

_Macheath._ For my having broke Prison, you see, Gentlemen, I am order'd immediate Execution. --The Sheriff's Officers, I believe, are now at the Door. --That _Jemmy Twitcher_ should peach me, I own surpris'd me! --'Tis a plain Proof that the World is all alike, and that even our Gang can no more trust one another than other People. Therefore, I beg you, Gentlemen, look well to yourselves, for in all probability you may live some Months longer.

_Matt._ We are heartily sorry, Captain, for your Misfortune. --But 'tis what we must all come to.

_Macheath._ _Peachum_ and _Lockit_, you know, are infamous Scoundrels. Their Lives are as much in your Power, as yours are in theirs. --Remember your dying Friend! --'Tis my last Request. --Bring those Villains to the Gallows before you, and I am satisfied.

_Matt._ We'll do't.

_Jailor._ Miss _Polly_ and Miss _Lucy_ intreat a Word with you.

_Macheath._ Gentlemen, adieu.

[Exeunt _Ben Budge_ and _Matt_.

Enter _Lucy_ and _Polly_.

_Macheath._ My dear _Lucy_-- My dear _Polly_-- Whatsoever hath pass'd between us is now at an end-- If you are fond of marrying again, the best Advice I can give you, is to Ship yourselves off for the _West-Indies_, where you'll have a fair Chance of getting a Husband a-piece, or by good Luck, two or three, as you like best.

_Polly._ How can I support this Sight!

_Lucy._ There is nothing moves one so much as a great Man in Distress.

AIR LXVII. All you that must take a Leap, &c.

[Music]

_Lucy._ Would I might be hang'd!

_Polly._ --And I would so too!

_Lucy._ To be hang'd with you.

_Polly._ --My Dear, with you.

_Macheath._ O leave me to Thought! I fear! I doubt! I tremble! I droop! --See, my Courage is out.

[Turns up the empty Bottle.

_Polly._ No Token of Love?

_Macheath._ --See, my Courage is out.

[Turns up the empty Pot.

_Lucy._ No Token of Love?

_Polly._ --Adieu.

_Lucy._ --Farewell.

_Macheath._ But hark! I hear the Toll of the Bell.

_Chorus._ Tol de rol lol, &c.

_Jailor._ Four Women more, Captain, with a Child apiece! See, here they come.

[Enter Women and Children.

_Macheath._ What-- four Wives more! --This is too much-- Here-- tell the Sheriff's Officers I am ready. [Exit _Macheath_ guarded.

_To them, Enter _Player_ and _Beggar_._

_Player._ But, honest Friend, I hope you don't intend that _Macheath_ shall be really executed.

_Beggar._ Most certainly, Sir. --To make the Piece perfect, I was for doing strict poetical Justice. --_Macheath_ is to be hang'd; and for the other Personages of the Drama, the Audience must have suppos'd they were all either hang'd or transported.

_Player._ Why then, Friend, this is a downright deep Tragedy. The Catastrophe is manifestly wrong, for an Opera must end happily.

_Beggar._ Your Objection, Sir, is very just, and is easily remov'd. For you must allow, that in this kind of Drama, 'tis no matter how absurdly things are brought about-- So-- you Rabble there-- run and cry, A Reprieve! --let the Prisoner be brought back to his Wives in Triumph.

_Player._ All this we must do, to comply with the Taste of the Town.

_Beggar._ Through the whole Piece you may observe such a Similitude of Manners in high and low Life, that it is difficult to determine whether (in the fashionable Vices) the fine Gentlemen imitate the Gentlemen of the Road, or the Gentlemen of the Road the fine Gentlemen. --Had the Play remained, as I at first intended, it would have carried a most excellent Moral. 'Twould have shewn that the lower Sort of People have their Vices in a degree as well as the Rich: And that they are punish'd for them.

_To them, _Macheath_ with _Rabble_, &c._

_Macheath._ So, it seems, I am not left to my Choice, but must have a Wife at last. --Look ye, my Dears, we will have no Controversy now. Let us give this Day to Mirth, and I am sure she who thinks herself my Wife will testify her Joy by a Dance.

_All._ Come, a Dance-- a Dance.

_Macheath._ Ladies, I hope you will give me leave to present a Partner to each of you. And (if I may without Offence) for this time, I take _Polly_ for mine. --And for Life, you Slut,-- for we were really marry'd. --As for the rest. --But at present keep your own Secret.

[To _Polly_.

A DANCE.

AIR LXVIII. Lumps of Pudding, &c.

[Music]

Thus I stand like the _Turk_, with his Doxies around; From all Sides their Glances his Passion confound; For Black, Brown, and Fair, his Inconstancy burns, And the different Beauties subdue him by turns: Each calls forth her Charms to provoke his Desires: Though willing to all, with but one he retires. But think of this Maxim, and put off your Sorrow, The Wretch of To-day, may be happy To-morrow.

_Chorus._ But think of this Maxim, &c.

FINIS.

Printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, Bungay, Suffolk.

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Errata Noted by Transcriber:

Inconsistencies: Dramatis Personae: "Mat of the Mint" [_The name is spelled "Mat" here and on the character's first entrance, "Matt" everywhere else._] The place name "Mary-bone" is spelled randomly with and without a hyphen. There is no illustration at the end of Act II, Scene II.

Spelling Unchanged: Air X. ... Whose Treasure is contreband. the hypocrytical Strumpet

Punctuation or Capitalization Unchanged:

Dear Wife, be a little pacified, Don't let your Passion of rich Brocade. --that, I see, is dispos'd of. you had a handsom Gold Watch of us 'tother Day --But are you sure it is Captain _Macheath_. but to see thee / thus distracts me? Air LXI. The stronger Liquor we'er drinking;

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_About the Music_

The following information is also given in the text file "about_the_music" in the "Music" directory.

The music in the printed book appears to be a hand-written copy of the 1765 original, retaining or adding assorted minor errors. In particular, the use of double bar lines or repeats seems to be almost entirely arbitrary. In the PDF and MIDI files, obvious errors such as missing dots after notes have been corrected, and a few ties have been added. Repeats are used only when required by the lyrics as printed.

All music files, including the PDF images, are in the "Music" directory. In addition to individual Airs, there are PDF files containing the collected songs for each scene that has more than one song. Air LXVIII (the final song) has been omitted because it takes up a complete page by itself.

_Changing the Tempo_

If you want to change the tempo of a MIDI file, do this:

--Install the lilypond program (free from lilypond.org)

--Open the file you want to edit (named in the form "air_N.ly" using the same Roman numerals as in the text) and scroll down to the bottom. The "make-moment" line works just like a metronome setting. Leave the second number alone--usually a 4 for quarter-note--and make the first number larger or smaller.

--Select "Run" or "Typeset File" from the Compile menu. This will create three files in the same location as the original .ly file: an updated MIDI, a new PDF, and a Postscript (.ps) file. You may keep the Postscript file or delete it; they are automatically generated, but were omitted from this Project Gutenberg text because they are very large and are easy to make on your own computer.