Sure all Women are alike! If ever they commit the Folly,
they are sure to commit another by exposing themselves--Away Not a
Word more--You are my Prisoner, now, Hussy.
AIR XXXVIII. Irish Howl.
POLLY. No Power on Earth can e'er divide
The Knot that sacred Love hath ty'd.
When Parents draw against our Mind,
The True-Love's Knot they faster bind.
Oh, oh ray, oh Amborah--oh, oh, &c.
[Holding Macheath, Peachum pulling her.]
SCENE III. The Same.
Lucy, Macheath.
MACHEATH. I am naturally compassionate, Wife; so that I could not
use the Wench as she deserv'd; which made you at first suspect there
was something in what she said.
LUCY. Indeed, my Dear, I was strangely puzzled.
MACHEATH. If that had been the Case, her Father would never have
brought me into this Circumstance-- No, Lucy, I had rather die than
be false to thee.
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.
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