So save a wretched Wife!
For on the Rope that hangs my Dear
Depends poor Polly’s Life.
Mrs. Peachum. But your Duty to your Parents, Hussy, obliges you to hang him. What would many a Wife give for such an Opportunity!
Polly. What is a Jointure, what is Widow-hood to me? I know my Heart. I cannot survive him.
[ AIR XIII. Le printems rapelle aux armes.]
The Turtle thus with plaintive Crying,
Her Lover dying,