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.
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