_Mrs. Peachum._ Set in Gold! A pretty Encouragement this to a young Beginner. _Filch._ I had a fair Tug at a charming Gold Watch. Pox take the Tailors for making the Fobs so deep and narrow! It stuck by the way, and I was forc'd to make my Escape under a Coach. Really, Madam, I fear I shall be cut off in the Flower of my Youth, so that every now and then (since I was pumpt) I have Thoughts of taking up and going to Sea. _Mrs. Peachum._ You should go to _Hockley in the Hole_, and to _Marybone_, Child, to learn Valour. These are the Schools that have bred so many brave Men. I thought, Boy, by this time, thou hadst lost Fear as well as Shame. Poor Lad! how little does he know as yet of the _Old Baily_! For the first Fact I'll insure thee from being hang'd; and going to Sea, _Filch_, will come time enough upon a Sentence of Transportation. But now, since you have nothing better to do, ev'n go to your Book, and learn your Catechism; for really a Man makes but an ill Figure in the Ordinary's Paper, who cannot give a satisfactory Answer to his Questions. But, hark you, my Lad. Don't tell me a Lye; for you know I hate a Liar. Do you know of anything that hath pass'd between Captain _Macheath_ and our _Polly_? _Filch._ I beg you, Madam, don't ask me; for I must either tell a Lye to you or to Miss _Polly_; for I promis'd her I would not tell. _Mrs. Peachum._ But when the Honour of our Family is concern'd-- _Filch._ I shall lead a sad Life with Miss _Polly_, if ever she comes to know that I told you. Besides, I would not willingly forfeit my own Honour by betraying any body. _Mrs. Peachum._ Yonder comes my Husband and _Polly_. Come, _Filch_, you shall go with me into my own Room, and tell me the whole Story. I'll give thee a Glass of a most delicious Cordial that I keep for my own drinking. [Exeunt. Enter _Peachum_, _Polly_. _Polly._ I know as well as any of the fine Ladies how to make the most of myself and of my Man too. A Woman knows how to be mercenary, though she hath never been in a Court or at an Assembly. We have it in our Natures, Papa. If I allow Captain _Macheath_ some trifling Liberties, I have this Watch and other visible Marks of his Favour to shew for it. A Girl who cannot grant some Things, and refuse what is most material, will make but a poor hand of her Beauty, and soon be thrown upon the Common. AIR VI. What shall I do to shew how much I love her, &c. [Music] Virgins are like the fair Flower in its Lustre, Which in the Garden enamels the Ground; Near it the Bees in play flutter and cluster, And gaudy Butterflies frolick around. But, when once pluck'd, 'tis no longer alluring, To _Covent-Garden_ 'tis sent (as yet sweet), There fades, and shrinks, and grows past all enduring, Rots, stinks, and dies, and is trod under feet.