Air LVI. Bonny Dundee
Macheath.
The Charge is prepar’d; the Lawyers are met,
The Judges all rang’d (a terrible Show!)
I go, undismay’d.—For Death is a Debt,
A Debt on Demand.—So take what I owe.
Then farewell, my Love—Dear Charmers, adieu.
Contented I die—’Tis the better for you.
Here ends all Disputes the rest of our Lives,
For this way at once I please all my Wives.
Now, Gentlemen, I am ready to attend you.
Exeunt Macheath, Lockit, and Peachum.
Enter Filch.
Polly. Follow them, Filch, to the Court. And when the Trial is over, bring me a particular Account of his Behaviour, and of every thing that happen’d—You’ll find me here with Miss Lucy. Exit Filch. But why is all this Musick?
Lucy. The Prisoners, whose Trials are put off ’till next Session, are diverting themselves.
Polly. Sure there is nothing so charming as Music! I’m fond of it to Distraction!—But alas!—now, all Mirth seems an Insult upon my Affliction.—Let us retire, my dear Lucy, and indulge our Sorrows.—The noisy Crew, you see, are coming upon us.
Exeunt.
A Dance of Prisoners in Chains, &c.