Classic Poem

ACT I. Scene I.

SCENE D UCAT'S House .

DUCAT, TRAPES.

Trapes. T HOUGH you were born and bred and live in the Indies , as you are a subject of Britain you shou'd live up to our customs. Prodigality there, is a fashion that is among all ranks of people. Why, our very younger brothers push themselves into the polite world by squandering more than they are worth. You are wealthy, very wealthy, Mr. Ducat ; and I grant you the more you have, the taste of getting more should grow stronger upon you. 'Tis just so with us. But then the richest of our Lords and Gentlemen, who live elegantly, always run out. 'Tis genteel to be in debt. Your luxury should distinguish you from the vulgar. You cannot be too expensive in your pleasures.

Air I. The disappointed Widow.

The manners of the Great affect;
Stint not your pleasure:
If conscience had their genius checkt,
How got they treasure?
The more in debt, run in debt the more,
Careless who is undone;
Morals and honesty leave to the poor,
As they do at London.
Ducat. I never thought to have heard thrift laid to my charge. There is not a man, though I say it, in all the Indies who lives more plentifully than my self; nor, who enjoys the necessaries of life in so handsome a manner.
Trapes. There it is now. Who ever heard a man of fortune in England talk of the necessaries of life? If the necessaries of life would have satisfied such a poor body as me, to be sure I had never come to mend my fortune to the Plantations. Whether we can afford it or no, we must have superfluities. We never stint our expence to our own fortunes, but are miserable if we do not live up to the profuseness of our neighbours. If we could content our selves with the necessaries of Life, no man alive ever need be dishonest. As to woman now; why, look ye, Mr. Ducat , a man hath what we may call every thing that is necessary in a wife.
Ducat. Ay, and more!
Trapes. But for all that, d'ye see, your married men are my best customers. It keeps wives upon their good behaviours.
Ducat. But there are jealousies and family lectures, Mrs. Trapes .
Trapes. Bless us all! how little are our customs known on this side the herring-pond! Why, jealousy is out of fashion even among our common country-gentlemen. I hope you are better bred than to be jealous. A husband and wife should have a mutual complaisance for each other. Sure, your wife is not so unreasonable to expect to have you always to her self.
Ducat. As I have a good estate, Mrs. Trapes , I would willingly run into every thing that is suitable to my dignity and fortune. No body throws himself into the extravagancies of life with a freer spirit. As to conscience and musty morals, I have as few drawbacks upon my profits or pleasures as any man of quality in England ; in those I am not in the least vulgar. Besides, Madam, in most of my expences I run into the polite taste. I have a fine library of books that I never read; I have a fine stable of horses that I never ride; I build, I buy plate, jewels, pictures, or any thing that is valuable and curious, as your great men do, merely out of ostentation. But indeed I must own, I do still cohabit with my wife; and she is very uneasy and vexatious upon account of my visits to you.
Trapes. Indeed, indeed, Mr. Ducat , you shou'd break through all this usurpation at once, and keep — — . Now too is your time; for I have a fresh cargo of ladies just arriv'd: no body alive shall set eyes upon 'em till you have provided your self. You should keep your lady in awe by her maid; place a handsome, sprightly wench near your wife, and she will be a spy upon her into the bargain. I would have you show your self a fine gentleman in every thing.
Ducat. But I am somewhat advanc'd in life, Mrs. Trapes , and my duty to my wife lies very hard upon me; I must leave keeping to younger husbands and old batchelors.
Trapes. There it is again now! Our very vulgar pursue pleasures in the flush of youth and inclination, but our great men are modishly profligate when their appetite hath left 'em.

Air II. The Irish ground .

B ASS . Ducat.

What can wealth
When we're old?
Youth and health
Are not sold.

T REBLE . Trapes.

When love in the pulse beats low,
(As haply it may with you)
A girl can fresh youth bestow,
And kindle desire anew,
Thus, numm'd in the brake,
Without motion, the snake
Sleeps cold winter away;
But in every vein
Life quickens again
On the bosom of May.
We are not here, I must tell you, as we are at London , where we can have fresh goods every week by the waggon. My maid is again gone aboard the vessel; she is perfectly charm'd with one of the ladies; 'twill be a credit to you to keep her. I have obligations to you, Mr. Ducat , and I would part with her to no man alive but your self. If I had her at London , such a lady would be sufficient to make my fortune; but, in truth, she is not impudent enough to make herself agreeable to the sailors in a publick-house in this country. By all accounts, she hath a behaviour only fit for a private family.
Ducat. But how shall I manage matters with my wife?
Trapes. Just as the fine gentlemen do with us. We could bring you many great precedents for treating a wife with indifference, contempt, and neglect; but that, indeed, would be running into too high life. I would have you keep some decency, and use her with civility. You should be so obliging as to leave her to her liberties and take them too yourself. Why, all our fine ladies, in what they call pin-money, have no other views; 'tis what they all expect.
Ducat. But I am afraid it will be hard to make my wife think like a gentle-woman upon this subject; so that if I take her, I must act discreetly and keep the affair a dead secret.
Trapes. As to that, Sir, you may do as you please. Should it ever come to her knowledge, custom and education perhaps may make her at first think it somewhat odd. But this I can affirm with a safe conscience, that many a lady of quality have servants of this sort in their families, and you can afford an expence as well as the best of 'em.
Ducat. I have a fortune, Mrs. Trapes , and would fain make a fashionable figure in life; if we can agree upon the price I'll take her into the family.
Trapes. I am glad to see you fling your self into the polite taste with a spirit. Few, indeed, have the turn or talents to get money; but fewer know how to spend it handsomely after they have got it. The elegance of luxury consists in variety, and love requires it as much as any of our appetites and passions, and there is a time of life when a man's appetite ought to be whetted by a delicacy.
Ducat. Nay, Mrs. Trapes , now you are too hard upon me. Sure you cannot think me such a clown as to be really in love with my Wife! We are not so ignorant here as you imagine; why, I married her in a reasonable way, only for her money.

Air III. Noel Hills .

He that weds a beauty
Soon will find her cloy:
When pleasure grows a duty,
Farewell love and joy:
He that weds for treasure
(Though he hath a wife)
Hath chose one lasting pleasure
In a married life.

SCENE II.

DUCAT, TRAPES, DAMARIS.

Ducat. Damaris [Calling at the door.] Damaris , I charge you not to stir from the door, and the instant you see your lady at a distance returning from her walk, be sure to give me notice.
Trapes. She is in most charming rigging; she won't cost you a penny, Sir, in cloaths at first setting out. But, alack-a-day! no bargain could ever thrive with dry lips: a glass of liquor makes every thing go so glibly.
Ducat. Here, Damaris ; a glass of Rum for Mrs. Dye . [Damaris goes out and returns with a bottle and glass .]
Trapes. But as I was saying, Sir, I would not part with her to any body alive but your self; for, to be sure, I could turn her to ten times the profit by jobbs and chance customers. Come, Sir, here's to the young lady's health.

SCENE III.

DUCAT, TRAPES, FLIMZY.

Trapes. Well, Flimzy ; are all the ladies safely landed, and have you done as I order'd you?
Flimzy. Yes, Madam. The three ladies for the run of the house are safely lodg'd at home; the other is without in the hall to wait your commands. She is a most delicious creature, that's certain. Such lips, such eyes, and such flesh and blood! If you had her in London you could not fail of the custom of all the foreign Ministers. As I hope to be sav'd, Madam, I was forc'd to tell her ten thousand lyes before I could prevail upon her to come with me. Oh Sir, you are the most lucky, happy man in the world! Shall I go call her in?
Trapes. 'Tis necessary for me first to instruct her in her duty and the ways of the family. The girl is bashful and modest, so I must beg leave to prepare her by a little conversation, and afterwards, Sir, I shall leave you to your private conversations.
Flimzy. But I hope, Sir, you won't forget poor Flimzy ; for the richest man alive could not be more scrupulous than I am upon these occasions, and the bribe only can make me excuse it to my conscience. I hope, Sir, you will pardon my freedom. [ He gives her money .]

Air IV. Sweetheart, think upon me.

My conscience is of courtly mold,
Fit for highest station.
Where's the hand, when touch'd with gold,
Proof against temptation?
Ducat . We can never sufficiently encourage such useful qualifications. You will let me know when you are ready for me.

SCENE IV.

TRAPES.

Trapes. I wonder I am not more wealth; for, o' my conscience, I have as few scruples as those that are ten thousand times as rich. But, alack-a-day! I am forc'd to play at small game. I now and then betray and ruine an innocent girl. And what of that? Can I in conscience expect to be equally rich with those who betray and ruine provinces and countries? Introth, all their great fortunes are owing to situation; as for genius and capacity I can match them to a hair: were they in my circumstance they would act like me; were I in theirs, I should be rewarded as a most profound penetrating politician.

Air V. 'Twas within a furlong.

In pimps and politicians
The genius is the same;
Both raise their own conditions
On others guilt and shame:
With a tongue well-tipt with lyes
Each the want of parts supplies,
And with a heart that's all disguise
Keeps his schemes unknown.
Seducing as the devil,
They play the tempter's part,
And have, when most they're civil,
Most mischief in their heart.
Each a secret commerce drives,
First corrupts and then connives,
And by his neighbours vices thrives,
For they are all his own.

SCENE V.

TRAPES, FLIMZY, POLLY.

Trapes. Bless my eye-sight! what do I see? I am in a dream, or it is Miss Polly Peachum! mercy upon me! Child, what brought you on this side of the water?
Polly. Love, Madam, and the misfortunes of our family. But I am equally surpris'd to find an acquaintance here; you cannot be ignorant of my unhappy story, and perhaps from you, Mrs. Dye , I may receive some information that may be useful to me.
Trapes. You need not be much concern'd, Miss Polly , at a sentence of transportation, for a young lady of your beauty hath wherewithal to make her fortune in any country.
Polly. Pardon me, Madam; you mistake me. Though I was educated among the most profligate in low life, I never engag'd in my father's affairs as a thief or a thief-catcher, for indeed I abhorr'd his profession. Would my Papa had never taken it up, he then still had been alive and I had never known Macheath!

Air VI. Sortez des vos retraites.

She who hath felt a real pain
By Cupid's dart,
Finds that all absence is in vain
To cure her heart.
Though from my lover cast
Far as from Pole to Pole,
Still the pure flame must last,
For love is in the Soul. You must have heard, Madam, that I was unhappy in my marriage. When Macheath was transported all my peace was banished with him; and my Papa's death hath now given me liberty to pursue my inclinations.
Trapes. Good lack-a-day poor Mr. Peachum! Death was so much oblig'd to him that I wonder he did not allow him a reprieve for his own sake. Truly, I think he was oblig'd to no-body more except the physicians: but they dye it seems too. Death is very impartial; he takes all alike, friends and foes.
Polly. Every monthly Sessions-paper like the apothecary's files (if I may make the comparison) was a record of his services. But my Papa kept company with gentlemen, and ambition is catching. He was in too much haste to be rich. I wish all great men would take warning. 'Tis now seven months since my Papa was hang'd.
Trapes. This will be a great check indeed to your men of enterprizing genius; and it will be unsafe to push at making a great fortune, if such accidents grow common. But sure, Child, you are not so mad as to think of following Macheath .
Polly. In following him I am in pursuit of my quiet. I love him, and like a troubled ghost shall never be at rest till I appear to him. If I can receive any information of him from you, it will be a cordial to a wretch in despair.
Trapes. My dear Miss Polly , you must not think of it. 'Tis now above a year and a half since he robb'd his master, ran away from the plantation and turn'd pyrate. Then too what puts you beyond all possibility of redress, is, that since he came over he married a transported slave, one Jenny Diver , and she is gone off with him. You must give over all thoughts of him for he is a very devil to our sex; not a woman of the greatest vivacity shifts her inclinations half so fast as he can. Besides, he would disown you, for like an upstart he hates an old acquaintance. I am sorry to see those tears, Child, but I love you too well to flatter you.
Polly. Why have I a heart so constant? cruel love!

Air VII. O Waly, Waly, up the bank.

Farewell, farewell, all hope of bliss!
For Polly always must be thine .
Shall then my heart be never his,
Which never can again be mine?
O Love, you play a cruel part,
Thy shaft still festers in the wound;
You should reward a constant heart,
Since 'tis, alas, so seldom found!
Trapes. I tell you once again, Miss Polly , you must think no more of him. You are like a child who is crying after a butterfly that is hopping and fluttering upon every flower in the field; there is not a woman that comes in his way but he must have a taste of; besides there is no catching him. But, my dear girl, I hope you took care, at your leaving England , to bring off wherewithal to support you.
Polly. Since he is lost, I am insensible of every other misfortune. I brought indeed a summ of money with me, but my chest was broke open at sea, and I am now a wretched vagabond expos'd to hunger and want, unless charity relieve me.
Trapes. Poor child! your father and I have had great dealings together, and I shall be grateful to his memory. I will look upon you as my daughter; you shall be with me.
Polly. As soon as I can have remittances from England , I shall be able to acknowledge your goodness: I have still five hundred pounds there which will be return'd to me upon demand; but I had rather undertake any honest service that might afford me a maintenance than be burthensome to my friends.
Trapes. Sure never any thing happen'd so luckily! Madam Ducat just now wants a servant, and I know she will take my recommendation; and one so tight and handy as you must please her: then too, her husband is the civilest, best-bred man alive. You are now in her house and I won't leave it 'till I have settled you. Be cheerful, my dear Child, for who knows but all these misfortunes may turn to your advantage? You are in a rich creditable family, and I dare say your person and behaviour will soon make you a favourite. As to captain Macheath , you may now safely look upon your self as a widow, and who knows, if Madam Ducat should tip off, what may happen? I shall recommend you, Miss Polly , as a gentlewoman.

Air VIII. O Jenny come tye me.

Despair is all folly;
Hence, melancholy,
Fortune attends you while youth is in flower.
By beauty's possession
Us'd with discretion,
Woman at all times hath joy in her power.
Polly. The service, Madam, you offer me, makes me as happy as I can be in my circumstances, and I accept of it with ten thousand obligations.
Trapes. Take a turn in the hall with my maid for a minute or two, and I'll take care to settle all matters and conditions for your reception. Be assur'd, Miss Polly , I'll do my best for you.

SCENE VI.

TRAPES, DUCAT.

Trapes. Mr. Ducat. Sir. You may come in. I have had this very girl in my eye for you ever since you and I were first acquainted; and to be plain with you, Sir, I have run great risques for her: I had many a stratagem, to be sure, to inviegle her away from her relations! she too herself was exceeding difficult. And I can assure you, to ruine a girl of severe education is no small addition to the pleasure of our fine gentlemen. I can be answerable for it too, that you will have the first of her. I am sure I could have dispos'd of her upon the same account for at least a hundred guineas to an alderman of London ; and then too I might have had the disposal of her again as soon as she was out of keeping; but you are my friend, and I shall not deal hard with you.
Ducat. But if I like her I would agree upon terms beforehand; for should I grow fond of her, I know you have the conscience of other trades-people and would grow more imposing; and I love to be upon a certainty.
Trapes. Sure you cannot think a hundred pistoles too much; I mean for me. I leave her wholly to your generosity. Why your fine men, who never pay any body else, pay their pimps and bawds well; always ready money. I ever dealt conscientiously, and set the lowest price upon my ladies; when you see her, I am sure you will allow her to be as choice a piece of beauty as ever you laid eyes on.
Ducat. But, dear Mrs. Dye , a hundred pistoles say you? why, I could have half a dozen negro princesses for the price.
Trapes. But sure you cannot expect to buy a fine handsome christian at that rate. You are not us'd to see such goods on this side of the water. For the women, like the cloaths, are all tarnish'd and half worn out before they are sent hither. Do but cast your eye upon her, Sir; the door stands half open; see, yonder she trips in conversation with my maid Flimzy in the hall.
Ducat. Why truly I must own she is handsome.
Trapes. Bless me, you are no more mov'd by her than if she were your wife. Handsom! what a cold husband-like expression is that! nay, there is no harm done. If I take her home, I don't question the making more money of her. She was never in any body's house but your own since she was landed. She is pure, as she was imported, without the least adulteration.
Ducat. I'll have her. I'll pay you down upon the nail. You shall leave her with me. Come, count your money, Mrs. Dye .
Trapes. What a shape is there! she's of the finest growth.
Ducat. You make me mis-reckon. She even takes off my eyes from gold.
Trapes. What a curious pair of sparkling eyes!
Ducat. As vivifying as the sun. I have paid you ten.
Trapes. What a racy flavour must breath from those lips!
Ducat. I want no provoking commendations. I'm in youth; I'm on fire! twenty more makes it thirty; and this here makes it just fifty.
Trapes. What a most inviting complexion! how charming a colour! In short, a fine woman has all the perfections of fine wine, and is a cordial that is ten times as restorative.
Ducat. This fifty then makes it just the sum. So now, Madam, you may deliver her up.
SCENE VII.

DUCAT, TRAPES, DAMARIS.

Damaris. Sir, Sir, my Mistress is just at the door.
Ducat. Get you out of the way this moment, dear Mrs. Dye ; for I would not have my wife see you. But don't stir out of the house till I am put in possession. I'll get rid of her immediately.

SCENE VIII.

DUCAT, Mrs. DUCAT.

Mrs. Ducat. I can never be out of the way, for an hour or so, but you are with that filthy creature. If you were young, and I took liberties, you could not use me worse; you could not, you beastly fellow. Such usage might force the most vertuous woman to resentment. I don't see why the wives in this country should not put themselves upon as easy a foot as in England . In short, Mr. Ducat , if you behave your self like an English husband, I will behave my self like an English wife.

Air IX. Red House.

I will have my humours, I'll please all my senses,
I will not be stinted — — in love or expences.
I'll dress with profusion, I'll game without measure:
You shall have the business, I will have the pleasure:
Thus every day I'll pass my life,
My home shall be my least resort;
For sure 'tis fitting that your wife
Shou'd copy ladies of the court.
Ducat. All these things I know are natural to the sex, my dear. But husbands like colts, are restif, and they require a long time to break 'em. Besides, 'tis not the fashion as yet, for husbands to be govern'd in this country. That tongue of yours, my dear, hath not eloquence enough to persuade me out of my reason. A woman's tongue, like a trumpet, only serves to raise my courage.

Air X. Old Orpheus tickl'd, &c .

When billows come breaking on the strand,
The rocks are deaf and unshaken stand:
Old oaks can defy the thunder's roar,
And I can stand woman's tongue — that's more,
With a twinkum, twankum , &c. With that weapon, women, like pyrates, are at war with the whole world. But I thought, my dear, your pride would have kept you from being jealous. 'Tis the whole business of my life to please you; but wives are like children, the more they are flatter'd and humour'd the more perverse they are. Here now have I been laying out my money, purely to make you a present, and I have nothing but freaks and reproaches in return. You wanted a maid, and I have bought you the handiest creature; she will indeed make a very creditable servant.
Mrs. Ducat. I will have none of your hussies about me. And so, Sir, you would make me your convenience, your bawd. Out upon it!
Ducat. But I bought her on purpose for you, Madam.
Mrs. Ducat. For your own filthy inclinations, you mean. I won't bear it. What keep an impudent strumpet under my nose! Here 's fine doings indeed!
Ducat. I will have the directions of my family. 'Tis my pleasure it shall be so. So, Madam, be satisfy'd.

Air XI. Christ-Church Bells.

When a woman jealous grows,
Farewell all peace of life! Mrs. Ducat.
But e'er man roves, he should pay what he owes.
And with her due content his wife. Ducat.
'Tis man's the weaker sex to sway. Mrs. Ducat.
We too, whene'er we list, obey. Ducat.
'Tis just and fit
You should submit. Mrs. Ducat.
But sweet kind husband — not to day. Ducat.
Let your clack be still. Mrs. Ducat.
Not till I have my will.
If thus you reason slight,
There 's never an hour
While breath has power,
But I will assert my right. Would I had you in England ; I should have all the women there rise in arms in my defence. For the honour and prerogative of the sex, they would not suffer such a precedent of submission. And so Mr. Ducat , I tell you once again, that you shall keep your trollops out of the house, or I will not stay in it.
Ducat. Look'ee, Wife; you will be able to bring about nothing by pouting and vapours. I have resolution enough to withstand either obstinacy or stratagem. And I will break this jealous spirit of yours before it gets a head. And so, my dear, I order that upon my account you behave your self to the girl as you ought.
Mrs. Ducat. I wish you would behave your self to your Wife as you ought; that is to say, with good manners, and compliance. And so, Sir, I leave you and your minx together. I tell you once again, that I would sooner dye upon the spot, than not be mistress in my own house.

SCENE IX.

DUCAT, DAMARIS.

Ducat. If by these perverse humours, I should be forc'd to part with her, and allow her a separate maintenance: the thing is so common among people of condition, that it could not prove to my discredit. Family divisions, and matrimonial controversies are a kind of proof of a man's riches; for the poor people are happy in marriage out of necessity, because they cannot afford to disagree. Damaris , saw you my Wife? Is she in her own room? What said she? Which way went she?
Damaris. Bless me, I was perfectly frighten'd, she look'd so like a fury! Thank my stars, I never saw her look so before in all my life; tho' mayhap you may have seen her look so before a thousand times. Woe be to the servants that fall in her way! I'm sure I'm glad to be out of it.

Air XII. Cheshire-rounds.

When kings by their huffing
Have blown up a squabble,
All the charge and cuffing
Light upon the rabble.
Thus when Man and Wife
By their mutual snubbing,
Kindle civil strife,
Servants get the drubbing.
Ducat. I would have you, Damaris , have an eye upon your mistress. You should have her good at heart, and inform me when she has any schemes afoot; it may be the means to reconcile us.
Damaris. She's wild, Sir. There's no speaking to her. She's flown into the garden! Mercy upon us all, say I! How can you be so unreasonable to contradict a woman, when you know we can't bear it?
Ducat. I depend upon you, Damaris , for intelligence. You may observe her at a distance; and as soon as she comes into her own room, bring me word. There is the sweetest pleasure in the revenge that I have now in my head! I'll this instant go and take my charge from Mrs. Trapes . [ Aside .] Damaris , you know your instructions.

SCENE X.

DAMARIS.

Damaris. Sure all masters and mistresses, like politicians, judge of the conscience of mankind by their own, and require treachery of their servants as a duty! I am employ'd by my master to watch my mistress, and by my mistress to watch my master. Which party shall I espouse? To be sure my mistress's. For in hers, jurisdiction and power, the common cause of the whole sex, are at stake. But my master I see is coming this way. I'll avoid him, and make my observations.

SCENE XI.

DUCAT, POLLY.

Ducat. Be cheerful, Polly , for your good fortune hath thrown you into a family, where, if you rightly consult your own interest, as every body now-a-days does, you may make your self perfectly easy. Those eyes of yours, Polly , are a sufficient fortune for any woman, if she have but conduct and know how to make the most of 'em.
Polly. As I am your servant, Sir, my duty obliges me not to contradict you; and I must hear your flattery tho' I know my self undeserving. But sure, Sir, in handsome women, you must have observ'd that their hearts often oppose their interest; and beauty certainly has ruin'd more women than it has made happy.

Air XIII. The bush a boon traquair.

The crow or daw thro' all the year
No fowler seeks to ruin,
But birds of voice or feather rare
He's all day long persuing.
Beware, fair maids; so scape the net
That other beauties fell in;
For sure at heart was never yet
So great a wretch as Helen! If my Lady, Sir, will let me know my duty, gratitude will make me study to please her.
Ducat. I have a mind to have a little conversation with you, and I would not be interrupted.
Polly. I wish, Sir, you would let me receive my Lady's commands.
Ducat. And so, Polly , by these downcast looks of yours you would have me believe you don't know you are handsome, and that you have no faith in your looking-glass. Why, every pretty woman studies her face, and a looking-glass to her is what a book is to a Pedant; she is poring upon it all day long. In troth, a man can never know how much love is in him by conversations with his Wife. A kiss on those lips would make me young again.

Air XIV. Bury Fair. Polly.

How can you be so teazing? Ducat.
Love will excuse my fault.
How can you be so pleasing! Polly.
I vow I'll not be naught. Ducat.
All maids I know at first resist.
A master may command. Polly.
You're monstrous rude: I'll not be kiss'd:
Nay, fye, let go my hand. Ducat.
'Tis foolish pride — Polly.
'Tis vile, 'tis base
Poor innocence to wrong; Ducat.
I'll force you, Polly.
Guard me from disgrace .
You find that vertue's strong. 'Tis barbarous in you, Sir, to take the occasion of my necessities to insult me.
Ducat. Nay, hussy, I'll give you money.
Polly. I despise it. No, Sir, tho' I was born and bred in England , I can dare to be poor, which is the only thing now-a-days men are asham'd of.
Ducat. I shall humble these saucy airs of yours, Mrs. Minx. Is this language from a servant! from a slave!
Polly. Am I then betray'd and sold!
Ducat. Yes, hussy, that you are; and as legally my property, as any woman is her husband's, who sells her self in marriage.
Polly. Climates that change constitutions have no effect upon manners. What a profligate is that Trapes!
Ducat. Your fortune, your happiness depends upon your compliance. What, proof against a bribe! Sure, hussy, you belye your country, or you must have had a very vulgar education. 'Tis unnatural.

Air XV. Bobbing Joan.

Maids like courtiers must be woo'd,
Most by flattery are subdu'd;
Some capricious, coy or nice
Out of pride protract the vice;
But they fall,
One and all,
When we bid up to their price. Besides, hussy, your consent may make me your slave; there 's power to tempt you into the bargain. You must be more than woman if you can stand that too.
Polly. Sure you only mean to try me! but 'tis barbarous to trifle with my distresses.
Ducat. I'll have none of these airs. 'Tis impertinent in a servant, to have scruples of any kind. I hire honour, conscience and all, for I will not be serv'd by halves. And so, to be plain with you, you obstinate slut, you shall either contribute to my pleasure or my profit; and if you refuse play in the bed-chamber, you shall go work in the fields among the planters. I hope now I have explain'd my self.
Polly. My freedom may be lost, but you cannot rob me of my vertue and integrity: and whatever is my lot, having that, I shall have the comfort of hope, and find pleasure in reflection.

Air XVI. A Swain long tortur'd with Disdain.

Can I or toil or hunger fear?
For love 's a pain that's more severe.
The slave, with vertue in his breast,
Can wake in peace, and sweetly rest. But love, when unhappy, the more vertuous it is, the more it suffers.
Ducat. What noise is that?
Damaris. [Without.] Sir, Sir.
Ducat. Step into the closet; I'll call you out immediately to present you to my wife. Don't let bashfulness ruin your fortune. The next opportunity I hope you will be better dispos'd.
Damaris. Open the door, Sir. This moment, this moment.

SCENE XII.

DUCAT, DAMARIS, Servants , Mrs. DUCAT , &c.

Ducat. What's the matter? Was any body about to ravish you? Is the house o' fire? Or my Wife in a passion?
Damaris. O Sir, the whole country is in an uproar! The pyrates are all coming down upon us; and if they should raise the militia, you are an officer you know. I hope you have time enough to fling up your commission.
1st Footman. The neighbours, Sir, are all frighted out of their wits; they leave their houses, and fly to yours for protection. Where 's my Lady, your Wife? Heaven grant, they have not taken her!
Ducat. If they only took what one could spare.
1st Footm. That 's true, there were no great harm done.
Ducat. How are the musquets?
1st Footm. Rusty Sir, all rusty and peaceable! For we never clean 'em but against training-day.
Damaris. Then, Sir, your honour is safe, for now you have a just excuse against fighting.
2d Footman. The Indians , Sir, with whom we are in alliance are all in arms; there will be bloody work to be sure. I hope they will decide the matter before we can get ready.
Mrs. Ducat. O dear Husband, I'm frighten'd to death! What will become of us all! I thought a punishment for your wicked lewdness would light upon you at last.
Ducat. Presence of mind, my dear, is as necessary in dangers as courage.
Damaris. But you are too rich to have courage. You should fight by deputy. 'Tis only for poor people to be brave and desperate, who cannot afford to live.
1st Maid. The pyrates, Sir, the pyrates! Mercy upon us, what will become of us poor helpless women!
2d Maid. We shall all be ravish'd.
1st Old Woman. All be ravish'd!
2d Old Woman. Ay to be sure, we shall be ravish'd; all be ravish'd!
1st Old Wom. But if fortune will have it so, patience is a vertue, and we must undergo it.
2d Old Wom. Ay, for certain we must all bear it, Mrs. Damaris .
3d Footm. A soldier, Sir, from the Indian Camp, desires admittance. He 's here, Sir.
Indian. I come, Sir, to the English colony, with whom we are in alliance, from the mighty King Pohetohee , my lord and master, and address my self to you, as you are of the council, for succours. The pyrates are ravaging and plund'ring the country, and we are now in arms, ready for battle, to oppose 'em.
Ducat. Does Macheath command the enemy?
Indian. Report says he is dead. Above twelve moons are pass'd since we heard of him. Morano , a Negro villain, is their chief, who in rapine and barbarities is even equal to him.
Ducat. I shall inform the council, and we shall soon be ready to joyn you. So acquaint the King your master.

Air XVII. March in Scipio .

Brave boys prepare.
Ah! Cease, fond Wife to cry. Servant.
For when the danger 's near,
We've time enough to fly. Mrs. Ducat.
How can you be disgrac'd!
For wealth secures your fame. Servant.
The rich are always plac'd
Above the sense of shame. Mrs. Ducat.
Let honour spur the slave,
To fight for fighting's sake: Ducat.
But even the rich are brave
When money is at stake. Be satisfy'd, my dear, I shall be discreet. My servants here will take care that I be not over-rash, for their wages depend upon me. But before I go to council — come hither Polly ; I intreat you, Wife, to take her into your service. And use her civilly. Indeed, my dear, your suspicions are very frivolous and unreasonable.
Mrs. Ducat. I hate to have a handsome wench about me. They are always so saucy!
Ducat. Women, by their jealousies, put one in mind of doing that which otherwise we should never think of. Why you are a proof, my dear, that a handsome woman may be honest.
Mrs. Ducat . I find you can say a civil thing to me still.
Ducat . Affairs, you see, call me hence. And so I leave her under your protection.

SCENE XIII.

Mrs. DUCAT, DAMARIS .

Mrs. Ducat . Away, into the other room again. When I want you, I'll call you. [ Exit Polly .] Well, Damaris , to be sure you have observ'd all that has pass'd. I will know all. I'm sure she 's a hussy.
Damaris . Nay, Madam, I can't say so much. But —
Mrs. Ducat . But what?
Damaris . I hate to make mischief.

Air XVIII. Jig-it-o'Foot.

Better to doubt
All that's doing,
Than to find out
Proofs of ruin.
What servants hear and see
Should they tattle,
Marriage all day would be
Feuds and battle. A servant's legs and hands should be under your command, but, for the sake of quiet, you should leave their tongues to their own discretion.
Mrs. Ducat . I vow, Damaris , I will know it.
Damaris . To be sure, Madam, the door was bolted, and I could only listen. There was a sort of a bustle between 'em, that 's certain. What past I know not. But the noise they made, to my thinking, did not sound very honest.
Mrs. Ducat . Noises that did not sound very honest, said you?
Damaris . Nay, Madam, I am a maid, and have no experience. If you had heard them, you would have been a better judge of the matter.
Mrs. Ducat . An impudent slut! I'll have her before me. If she be not a thorough profligate, I shall make a discovery by her behaviour. Go call her to me.

SCENE XIV.

Mrs. DUCAT, DAMARIS, POLLY .

Mrs. Ducat . In my own house! Before my face! I'll have you sent to the house of correction, strumpet. By that over-honest look, I guess her to be a horrid jade. A mere hypocrite, that is perfectly whitewash'd with innocence. My blood rises at the sight of all strumpets, for they are smuglers in love, that ruin us fair traders in matrimony. Look upon me, Mrs. brazen. She has no feeling of shame. She is so us'd to impudence, that she has not a blush within her. Do you know, madam, that I am Mr. Ducat's wife?
Polly . As your servant, Madam, I think my self happy.
Mrs. Ducat . You know Mr. Ducat , I suppose. She has beauty enough to make any woman alive hate her.

Air XIX. Trumpet Minuet.

Abroad after misses most husbands will roam,
Tho' sure they find woman sufficient at home.
To be nos'd by a strumpet! Hence, hussy you'd best.
Would he give me my due, I wou'd give her the rest. I vow I had rather have a thief in my house. For to be sure she is that besides.
Polly . If you were acquainted with my misfortunes, Madam, you could not insult me.
Mrs. Ducat . What does the wench mean?
Damaris . There's not one of these common creatures, but, like common beggars, hath a moving story at her finger's ends, which they tell over, when they are maudlin, to their lovers. I had a sweetheart, Madam, who was a rake, and I know their ways very well, by hearsay.
Polly . What villains are hypocrites! For they rob those of relief, who are in real distress. I know what it is to be unhappy in marriage.
Mrs. Ducat . Married!
Polly . Unhappily.
Mrs. Ducat . When, where, to whom?
Polly . If woman can have faith in woman, may my words find belief. Protestations are to be suspected, so I shall use none. If truth can prevail, I know you will pity me.
Mrs. Ducat . Her manner and behaviour are so particular, that is to say, so sincere, that I must hear her story. Unhappily married! That is a misfortune not to be remedied.
Polly . A constant woman hath but one chance to be happy; an inconstant woman, tho' she hath no chance to be very happy, can never be very unhappy.
Damaris . Believe me, Mrs. Polly , as to pleasures of all sorts, 'tis a much more agreeable way to be inconstant.

Air XX. Polwart on the Green.

Love now is nought but art,
'Tis who can juggle best;
To all men seem to give your heart,
But keep it in your breast.
What gain and pleasure do we find,
Who change whene'er we list!
The mill that turns with every wind
Must bring the owner grist.
Polly . My case, Madam, may in these times be look'd upon as singular; for I married a man only because I lov'd him. For this I was look'd upon as a fool by all my acquaintance; I was us'd inhumanly by my father and mother; and to compleat my misfortunes, my husband, by his wild behaviour, incurr'd the sentence of the law, and was separated from me by banishment. Being inform'd he was in this country, upon the death of my father and mother, with most of my small fortune, I came here to seek him.
Mrs. Ducat . But how then fell you into the hands of that consummate bawd, Trapes?
Polly . In my voyage, Madam, I was robb'd of all I had. Upon my landing in a strange country, and in want, I was found out by this inhuman woman, who had been an acquaintance of my father's: She offer'd me at first the civilities of her own house. When she was inform'd of my necessities, she propos'd to me the service of a Lady; of which I readily accepted. 'Twas under that pretence that she treacherously sold me to your husband as a mistress. This, Madam, is in short the whole truth. I fling my self at your feet for protection. By relieving me, you make your self easy.
Mrs. Ducat . What is't you propose?
Polly . In conniving at my escape, you save me from your husband's worrying me with threats and violence, and at the same time quiet your own fears and jealousies. If it is ever in my power, Madam, with gratitude I will repay you my ransom.
Damaris . Besides, Madam, you will effectually revenge your self upon your husband; for the loss of the money he paid for her will touch him to the quick.
Mrs. Ducat . But have you consider'd what you request? We are invaded by the pyrates: The Indians are in arms; the whole country is in commotion, and you will every where be expos'd to danger.
Damaris . Get rid of her at any rate. For such is the vanity of man, that when once he has begun with a woman, out of pride he will insist upon his point.
Polly . In staying with you, Madam, I make two people unhappy. And I chuse to bear my own misfortunes, without being the cause of another's.
Mrs. Ducat . If I let her escape before my husband's return, he will imagine she got off by the favour of this bustle and confusion.
Polly . May heaven reward your charity.
Mrs. Ducat . A woman so young and so handsome must be expos'd to continual dangers. I have a suit of cloaths by me of my nephew's, who is dead. In a man's habit you will run fewer risques. I'll assist you too for the present with some money; and, as a traveller, you may with greater safety make enquiries after your husband.
Polly . How shall I ever make a return for so much goodness?
Mrs. Ducat . May love reward your constancy. As for that perfidious monster Trapes , I will deliver her into the hands of the magistrate. Come, Damaris , let us this instant equip her for her adventures.
Damaris . When she is out of the house, without doubt, Madam, you will be more easy. And I wish she may be so too.
Polly . May vertue be my protection; for I feel within me hope, cheerfulness, and resolution.

Air XXI. St. Martin's Lane.

As pilgrims thro' devotion
To some shrine pursue their way,
They tempt the raging ocean,
And thro' desarts stray.
With zeal their hope desiring,
The saint their breast inspiring
With cheerful air,
Devoid of fear,
They every danger bear.
Thus equal zeal possessing,
I seek my only blessing.
O love, my honest vow regard!
My truth protect,
My steps direct,
His flight detect,
A faithful wife reward.