MACHEATH. I am naturally compassionate, Wife; so that I could not use the Wench as she deserv'd; which made you at first suspect there was something in what she said.
LUCY. Indeed, my Dear, I was strangely puzzled.
MACHEATH. If that had been the Case, her Father would never have brought me into this Circumstance - No, Lucy, I had rather die than be false to thee.
LUCY. How happy am I, if you say this from your Heart! For I love thee so, that I could sooner bear to see thee hang'd than in the Arms of another.
MACHEATH. 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.
LUCY. I like the Fox shall grieve,
Whose Mate hath left her Side,
Whom Hounds from Morn to Eve,
Chase o'er the Country wide.
Where can my Lover hide?
Where cheat the wary Pack?
If Love be not his Guide,
He never will come back! [Exeunt.]