_If you at an Office solicit your Due_, _And would not have Matters neglected_; _You must quicken the Clerk with the Perquisite too_, _To do what his Duty directed_. _Or would you the Frowns of a Lady prevent_, _She too has this palpable Failing_, _The Perquisite softens her into Consent_; _That Reason with all is prevailing_. _Lucy_. What Love or Money can do shall be done: for all my Comfort depends upon your Safety. _Enter_ 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 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! Imprisoned! 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 XXXIII. All in the Downs, &c. _Thus when the Swallow seeking Prey_, _Within the Sash is closely pent_, _His Consort_, _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_. [_Aside_.] I must disown her. [_Aloud_.] 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.—Look on me.—Tell me, am I not thy Wife? _Lucy_. Perfidious Wretch! _Polly_. Barbarous Husband! _Lucy_. Hadst thou been hang’d five Months ago, I had been happy. _Polly_. And I too—If you had been kind to me ’till Death, it would not have vexed me—And that’s no very unreasonable Request, (though from a Wife) to a Man who hath not above seven or eight Days to live. _Lucy_. Art thou then married to another? Hast thou two Wives, Monster? _Macheath_. If Women’s Tongues can cease for an Answer—hear me. _Lucy_. I won’t.—Flesh and Blood can’t bear my Usage. _Polly_. Shall I not claim my own? Justice bids me speak. AIR XXXIV. Have you heard of a frolicksome Ditty, &c. Macheath. _How happy could I be with either_, _Were t’other dear Charmer away_! _But while you thus teaze me together_, _To neither a Word will I say_; _But tol de rol_, &c. _Polly_. Sure, my Dear, there ought to be some Preference shewn to a Wife! At least she may claim the Appearance of it. He must be distracted with his Misfortunes, or he could not use me thus.