Mrs. Peach. Never was a man more out of the way in an argument than my husband! Why must our Polly, forsooth, differ from her sex and love only her husband? And why must our Polly’s marriage, contrary to all observation, make her the less followed by other men? All men are thieves in love, and like a woman the better for being another’s property.

Air.—Of all the simple things we do, etc.

Enter Filch

Come hither, Filch. I am as fond of this child as though my mind misgave me he were my own. He hath as fine a hand at picking a pocket as a woman, and is as nimble-fingered as a juggler. If an unlucky session does not cut the rope of thy life, I pronounce, boy, thou wilt be a great man in history. Where was your post last night, my boy?

Filch. I plied at the Opera, madam; and, considering ’twas neither dark nor rainy, so that there was no great hurry in getting chairs and coaches, made a tolerable hand on’t. These seven handkerchiefs, madam.

Mrs. Peach. Coloured ones, I see. They are of sure sale from our warehouse at Redriff among the seamen.

Filch. And this snuff-box.

Mrs. Peach. Set in gold! A pretty encouragement this to a young beginner!

Filch. I had a fair tug at a charming gold watch. Pox take the tailors for making the fobs so deep and narrow! It stuck by the way, and I was forced to make my escape under a coach. Really, madam, I fear I shall be cut off in the flower of my youth; so that, every now and then, since I was pumped, I have thoughts of taking up and going to sea.

Mrs. Peach. You should go to Hockley-in-the-Hole and to Marylebone, child, to learn valour. These are the schools that have bred so many brave men. I thought, boy, by this time, thou hadst lost fear as well as shame. Poor lad! how little does he know yet of the Old Bailey! For the first fact I’ll ensure thee from being hanged; and going to sea, Filch, will come time enough upon a sentence of transportation. But now, since you have nothing better to do, even go to your book and learn your catechism; for really a man makes but an ill figure in the Ordinary’s paper, who cannot give a satisfactory answer to his questions. But hark you, my lad, don’t tell me a lie, for you know I hate a liar. Do you know of anything that hath passed between Captain Macheath and our Polly?

Filch. I beg you, madam, don’t ask me; for I must either tell a lie to you or to Miss Polly. For I promised her I would not tell.

Mrs. Peach. But when the honour of our family is concerned—

Filch. I shall lead a sad life with Miss Polly, if ever she come to know that I told you. Besides, I would not willingly forfeit my own honour by betraying anybody.

Mrs. Peach. Yonder comes my husband and Polly. Come, Filch, you shall go with me into my own room and tell me the whole story. I’ll give thee a glass of a most delicious cordial that I keep for my own drinking.

[Exeunt.