_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. [Music] _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. [Illustration] [Illustration] ACT III. SCENE I. _SCENE, Newgate._ _Lockit_, _Lucy_. _Lockit._ To be sure, Wench, you must have been aiding and abetting to help him to this Escape. _Lucy._ Sir, here hath been _Peachum_ and his Daughter _Polly_, and to be sure they know the Ways of _Newgate_ as well as if they had been born and bred in the Place all their Lives. Why must all your Suspicion light upon me? _Lockit._ _Lucy_, _Lucy_, I will have none of these shuffling Answers. _Lucy._ Well then-- If I know any thing of him I wish I may be burnt! _Lockit._ Keep your Temper, _Lucy_, or I shall pronounce you guilty. _Lucy._ Keep yours, Sir,-- I do wish I may be burnt. I do-- And what can I say more to convince you? _Lockit._ Did he tip handsomly? --How much did he come down with? Come, Hussy, don't cheat your Father; and I shall not be angry with you-- Perhaps, you have made a better Bargain with him than I could have done-- How much, my good Girl? _Lucy._ You know, Sir, I am fond of him, and would have given Money to have kept him with me. _Lockit._ Ah _Lucy_! thy Education might have put thee more upon thy Guard; for a Girl in the Bar of an Ale-house is always besieg'd. _Lucy._ Dear Sir, mention not my Education-- for 'twas to that I owe my Ruin. AIR XL. If Love's a sweet Passion, &c. [Music]