[Exit Peachum.]
[Enter Lucy.]
LOCKIT. Whence come you, Hussy?
LUCY. My Tears might answer that Question.
LOCKIT. You have then been whimpering and fondling, like a Spaniel,
over the Fellow that hath abus'd you.
LUCY. One can't help Love; one can't cure it. 'Tis not in my Power
to obey you, and hate him.
LOCKIT. Learn to bear your Husband's Death like a reasonable Woman.
'Tis not the fashion, now-a-days, so much as to affect Sorrow upon
these Occasions. No Woman would ever marry, if she had not the
Chance of Mortality for a Release. Act like a Woman of Spirit,
Hussy, and thank your Father for what he is doing.
AIR XXX. Of a noble Race was Shenkin.
LUCY. Is then his Fate decreed, Sir?
Such a Man can I think of quitting?
When first we met, so moves me yet,
O see how my Heart is splitting!
LOCKIT. Look ye, Lucy--There is no saving him.--So, I think, you
must ev'n do like other Widows--buy yourself Weeds, and be chearful.
AIR XXXI.
You'll think ere many Days ensue
This Sentence not severe;
I hang your Husband, Child, 'tis true,
But with him hang your Care.
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