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A61II. The BEGGAR'S OPERA. 55
Lucy. That you are only to be hang'd, and fo get rid of them
both.
Mach. I am ready, my dear Lucy, to give you Satisfaction
if you think there is any in Marriage. -What can a Man of
Honour fay more ?
Lucy. So then, it feems, you are not married to Mifs Polly.
Mach. You know, Lucy, the Girl is prodigioufly conceited.
No Man can fay a civil thing to her, but (like other fine Ladies)
her Vanity makes her think he's her own for ever and ever.
.AIR XXIX. The Sun had loos'd his weary Teams, feV.
The fir ft time at the Looking-glafs
The Mother Jets her Daughter ,
The Image jlrlkei the fmlling Lafs
Tf r ith Self-love ever after,
Each time jhe looks, /he, fonder grown,
Thinks ev'ry Charm groivsjlronger.
But alas, vain Maid, all Eyes but your otvn
Can fee you are not younger.
When Women confider their own Beauties, they are all alike
unreafonahle in their Demands ; for they expect their Lovers
fhould like them as long as they like themfelves.
Lucy. Yonder is my Father perhaps this way we may light
upon the Ordinary, who (hall try if you will be as good as your
Word. -For I long; to be made an honed Woman.
2atd£
S C E N E
X.
Peachum, Lockit with an Account-Book.
Lock. In this laft Affair, Brother Peachum, we are agreed. You
have confented to go halves in Macheath. "*****•.
Peach. We {hall never fall out about an Execution — But as
to that Article, pray how ftands our laft Year's Account ?
D 4 Lock.