_Polly_. Sure, my Dear, there ought to be some Preference shewn to a Wife! At least she may claim the Appearance of it. He must be distracted with his Misfortunes, or he could not use me thus.
_Lucy_. O Villain, Villain! thou hast deceiv’d me—I could even inform against thee with Pleasure. Not a Prude wishes more heartily to have Facts against her intimate Acquaintance, than I now wish to have Facts against thee. I would have her Satisfaction, and they should all out.
Polly. . . . _My Distresses are doubled_.
Lucy. _When you come to the Tree_, _should the Hangman refuse_, _These Fingers_, _with Pleasure_, _could fasten the Noose_.
_Macheath_. Be pacified, my dear _Lucy_—This is all a Fetch of _Polly’s_, to make me desperate with you in case I get off. If I am hang’d, she would fain have the Credit of being thought my Widow—Really, _Polly_, this is no time for a Dispute of this sort; for whenever you are talking of Marriage, I am thinking of Hanging.
_Polly_. And hast thou the Heart to persist in disowning me?
_Macheath_. And hast thou the Heart to persist in persuading me that I am married? Why, _Polly_, dost thou seek to aggravate my Misfortunes?
_Lucy_. Really, Miss _Peachum_, you but expose yourself. Besides, ’tis barbarous in you to worry a Gentleman in his Circumstances.
Polly. _Cease your Funning_; _Force or Cunning_ _Never shall my Heart trapan_. _All these Sallies_ _Are but Malice_ _To seduce my constant Man_. _’Tis most certain_, _By their flirting_ _Women oft’ have Envy shown_. _Pleas’d_, _to ruin_ _Others wooing_; _Never happy in their own_.
_Polly_. Decency, Madam, methinks might teach you to behave yourself with some Reserve with the Husband, while his Wife is present.
_Macheath_. But seriously, _Polly_, this is carrying the Joke a little too far.
_Lucy_. If you are determin’d, Madam, to raise a Disturbance in the Prison, I shall be obliged to send for the Turnkey to shew you the Door. I am sorry, Madam, you force me to be so ill-bred.
_Polly_. Give me leave to tell you, Madam: These forward Airs don’t become you in the least, Madam. And my Duty, Madam, obliges me to stay with my Husband, Madam.
Lucy. _Why how now_, _Madam_ Flirt? _If you thus must chatter_; _And are for flinging Dirt_, _Let’s try who best can spatter_; _Madam_ Flirt.