POLLY. Indeed, Child, you have given yourself trouble to no
purpose.--You must, my Dear, excuse me.
LUCY. Really, Miss Polly, you are as squeamishly affected about
taking a Cup of Strong-Waters as a Lady before Company. I vow,
Polly, I shall take it monstrously ill if you refuse me.--Brandy and
Men (though Women love them ever so well) are always taken by us with
some Reluctance--unless 'tis in private.
POLLY. I protest, Madam, it goes against me.--What do I see!
Macheath again in Custody!--Now every Glimm'ring of Happiness is
lost.
[Drops the Glass of Liquor on the Ground.]
LUCY. Since things are thus, I'm glad the Wench hath escap'd: for
by this Event, 'tis plain, she was not happy enough to deserve to be
poison'd.
[Enter Lockit, Macheath, Peachum.]
LOCKIT. Set your Heart to rest, Captain.--You have neither the
Chance of Love or Money for another Escape,--for you are order'd to
be call'd down upon your Trial immediately.
PEACHUM. Away, Hussies!--This is not a Time for a Man to be hamper'd
with his Wives .
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