 | The Beggar's Opera |  |
Scene 10.
MRS. PEACHUM, PEACHUM, POLLY.POLLY.
'Twas only Nimming Ned. He brought in a Damask Window-Curtain, a Hoop-Petticoat, a pair of Silver Candlesticks, and one Silk Stocking, from the Fire that happen'd last Night.
PEACHUM.
There is not a Fellow that is cleverer in his way, and saves more Goods out of the Fire than Ned. But now, Polly, to your Affair; for Matters must be left as they are. You are married, then, it seems?
POLLY.
Yes, Sir.
PEACHUM.
And how do you propose to live, Child?
POLLY.
Like other Women, Sir, upon the Industry of my Husband.
MRS. PEACHUM.
What, is the Wench turn'd Fool? A Highwayman's Wife, like a Soldier's, hath as little of his Pay, as of his Company.
PEACHUM.
And had not you the common Views of a Gentlewoman in your Marriage, Polly?
POLLY.
I don't know what you mean, Sir.
PEACHUM.
Of a Jointure39, and of being a Widow.
POLLY.
But I love him, Sir; how then could I have Thoughts of parting with him?
PEACHUM.
Parting with him! Why, this is the whole Scheme and Intention of all Marriage Articles. The comfortable Estate of Widow-hood, is the only Hope that keeps up a Wife's Spirits. Where is the Woman who would scruple to be a Wife, if she had it in her Power to be a Widow, whenever she pleas'd? If you have any Views of this sort, Polly, I shall think the Match not so very unreasonable.
POLLY.
How I dread to hear your Advice! Yet I must beg you to explain yourself.
PEACHUM.
Secure what he hath got, have him peach'd the next Sessions, and then at once you are made a rich Widow.
POLLY.
What, murder the Man I love! The Blood runs cold at my Heart with the very Thought of it!
PEACHUM.
Fie, Polly! What hath Murder to do in the Affair? Since the thing sooner or later must happen, I dare say, the Captain himself would like rather that we should get the Reward for his Death sooner than a Stranger. Why, Polly, the Captain knows that as 'tis his Employment to rob, so 'tis ours to take Robbers; every Man in his Business. So there is no Malice in the case.
MRS. PEACHUM.
Ay, Husband, now you have nick'd the Matter. To have him peach'd40 is the only thing could ever make me forgive her.
POLLY.
Air XII.—Now ponder well, ye Parents dear.
O ponder well! be not severe:So save a wretched Wife!
For on the Rope that hangs my Dear
Depends poor Polly's Life.
MRS. PEACHUM.
But your Duty to your Parents, Hussy, obliges you to hang him. What would many a Wife give for such an Opportunity!
POLLY.
What is a Jointure, what is Widow-hood to me? I know my heart. I cannot survive him.
AIR XIII.—Le printemps rappelle aux armes.
The Turtle thus with plaintive Crying,Her Lover dying,
The Turtle thus with plaintive Crying,
Laments her Dove.
Down she drops quite spent with Sighing
Pair'd in Death, as pair'd in Love.
Thus, Sir, it will happen to your poor Polly.
MRS. PEACHUM.
What, is the Fool in Love in earnest then? I hate thee for being particular: Why Wench, thou art a Shame to they very Sex.
POLLY.
But hear me, Mother.—If you ever lov'd—
MRS. PEACHUM.
Those cursed Play-Books41 she reads have been her Ruin. One Word more, Hussy, and I shall knock your Brains out, if you have any.
PEACHUM.
Keep out of the way, Polly, for fear of Mischief, and consider what is propos'd to you.
MRS. PEACHUM.
Away, Hussy. Hang your Husband, and be dutiful.
| The Beggar's Opera | |