Lock. There is no perfumed breath like it. I have been long acquainted with the flavour of those lips, ha’n’t I, Mrs. Die?

Trapes. Fill it up. I take as large draughts of liquor as I did of love. I hate a flincher in either.

Air.—A shepherd kept sheep, etc.

But now, Mr. Peachum, to our business. If you have blacks of any kind brought in of late—manteaux, velvet scarfs, petticoats, let it be what it will—I am your chap; for all my ladies are very fond of mourning.

Peach. Why look ye, Mrs. Die, you deal so hard with us that we can afford to give the gentlemen, who venture their lives for the goods, little or nothing.

Trapes. The hard times oblige me to go very near in my dealing. To be sure of late years I have been a great sufferer by the Parliament. Three thousand pounds would hardly make me amends. The act for destroying the Mint was a severe cut upon our business. Till then if a customer stepped out of the way we knew where to have her. No doubt you know Mrs. Coaxer. There’s a wench now (till to-day) with a good suit of clothes of mine upon her back, and I could never set eyes upon her for three months together. Since the act, too, against imprisonment for small sums my loss there too hath been very considerable; and it must be so, when a lady can borrow a handsome petticoat or a clean gown, and I not have the least hank upon her. And o’ my conscience nowadays most ladies take a delight in cheating, when they can do it with safety!

Peach. Madam, you had a handsome gold watch of us t’ other day for seven guineas. Considering we must have our profit to a gentleman upon the road a gold watch will be scarce worth the taking.

Trapes. Consider, Mr. Peachum. That watch was remarkable, and not of very safe sale. If you have any black velvet scarves—they are a handsome winter wear, and take with most gentlemen who deal with my customers. ’Tis I that put the ladies upon a good foot. ’Tis not youth or beauty that fixes their price; the gentlemen always pay according to their dress, from half a crown to two guineas. And yet those hussies make nothing of bilking of me.—Then, too, allowing for accidents—I have eleven fine customers now down under the surgeon’s hands. What with fees and other expenses, there are great goings-out and no comings-in, and not a farthing to pay for at least a month’s clothing. We run great risks, great risks, indeed.

Peach. As I remember, you said something just now of Mrs. Coaxer.

Trapes. Yes, sir; to be sure I stripped her of a suit of my own clothes about two hours ago, and have left her, as she should be, in her shift, with a lover of hers, at my house. She called him upstairs, as he was going to Marylebone in a hackney-coach. And I hope for her own sake and mine she will persuade the Captain to redeem her, for the Captain is very generous to the ladies.

Lock. What Captain?

Trapes. He thought I did not know him. An intimate acquaintance of yours, Mr. Peachum, only Captain Macheath—as fine as a lord.

Peach. To-morrow, dear Mrs. Die, you shall set your own price upon any of the goods you like. We have at least half a dozen velvet scarves, and all at your service. Will you give me leave to make you a present of this suit of night-clothes for your own wearing? But are you sure it is Captain Macheath?