Text k překladu: Žebrácká opera
The Beggar’s Opera (J. Gay)
POLLY. I, like a Ship in Storms, was tost;
Yet afraid to put in to Land:
For seiz'd in the Port the Vessel's lost,
Whose Treasure is contreband.
The Waves are laid,
My Duty's paid.
O Joy beyond Expression!
Thus, safe a-shore,
I ask no more,
My All is in my Possession.
PEACHUM. I hear Customers in t'other Room: Go, talk with 'em,
Polly; but come to us again, as soon as they are gone.--But, hark ye,
Child, if 'tis the Gentleman who was here Yesterday about the
Repeating Watch; say, you believe we can't get Intelligence of it
'till to-morrow. For I lent it to Suky Straddle, to make a figure
with it to-night at a Tavern in Drury-Lane. If t'other Gentleman
calls for the Silver-hilted Sword; you know Beetle-brow'd Jemmy hath
it on, and he doth not come from Tunbridge 'till Tuesday Night; so
that it cannot be had 'till then.
[Exit Polly.]
PEACHUM. Dear Wife, be a little pacified, Don't let your Passion run
away with your Senses. Polly, I grant you, hath done a rash thing.
MRS. PEACHUM. If she had only an Intrigue with the Fellow, why the
very best Families have excus'd and huddled up a Frailty of that
sort. 'Tis Marriage, Husband, that makes it a Blemish.
PEACHUM. But Money, Wife, is the true Fuller's Earth for
Reputations, there is not a Spot or a Stain but what it can take out.
A rich Rogue now-a-days is fit Company for any Gentleman; and the
World, my Dear, hath not such a Contempt for Roguery as you imagine.
I tell you, Wife, I can make this Match turn to our Advantage.
MRS. PEACHUM. I am very sensible, Husband, that Captain Macheath is
worth Money, but I am in doubt whether he hath not two or three Wives
already, and then if he should die in a Session or two, Polly's Dower
would come into Dispute.
PEACHUM. That, indeed, is a Point which ought to be consider'd.
AIR XI. A Soldier and a Sailor.
A Fox may steal your Hens, Sir,
A Whore your Health and Pence, Sir,
Your Daughter rob your Chest, Sir,
Your Wife may steal your Rest, Sir.
A Thief your Goods and Plate.
But this is all but picking,
With Rest, Pence, Chest and Chicken;
It ever was decreed, Sir,
If Lawyer's Hand is fee'd, Sir,
He steals your whole Estate.
The Lawyers are bitter Enemies to those in our Way. They don't care
that any body should get a clandestine Livelihood but themselves.
[Enter Polly.]
POLLY. 'Twas only Nimming Ned. He brought in a Damask Window-
Curtain, a Hoop-Petticoat, a pair of Silver Candlesticks, a Periwig,
and one Silk Stocking, from the Fire that happen'd last Night.
PEACHUM. There is not a Fellow that is cleverer in his way, and
saves more Goods out of the Fire than Ned. But now, Polly, to your
Affair; for Matters must not be left as they are. You are married
then, it seems?
POLLY. Yes, Sir.
PEACHUM. And how do you propose to live, Child?
POLLY. Like other Women, Sir, upon the Industry of my Husband.
MRS. PEACHUM. What, is the Wench turn'd Fool? A Highwayman's Wife,
like a Soldier's, hath as little of his Pay, as of his Company.
PEACHUM. And had not you the common Views of a Gentlewoman in your
Marriage, Polly?
POLLY. I don't know what you mean, Sir.
PEACHUM. Of a Jointure, and of being a Widow.
POLLY. But I love him, Sir; how then could I have Thoughts of
parting with him?
PEACHUM. Parting with him! Why, this is the whole Scheme and
Intention of all Marriage-Articles. The comfortable Estate of Widow-
hood, is the only Hope that keeps up a Wife's Spirits. Where is the
Woman who would scruple to be a Wife, if she had it in her Power to
be a Widow, whenever she pleas'd? If you have any Views of this
sort, Polly, I shall think the Match not so very unreasonable.
POLLY. How I dread to hear your Advice! Yet I must beg you to
explain yourself.
PEACHUM. Secure what he hath got, have him peach'd the next
Sessions, and then at once you are made a rich Widow.
POLLY. What, murder the Man I love! The Blood runs cold at my Heart
with the very thought of it.
PEACHUM. Fie, Polly! What hath Murder to do in the Affair? Since
the thing sooner or later must happen, I dare say, the Captain
himself would like that we should get the Reward for his Death sooner
than a Stranger. Why, Polly, the Captain knows, that as 'tis his
Employment to rob, so 'tis ours to take Robbers; every Man in his
Business. So that there is no Malice in the Case.
MRS. PEACHUM. Ay, Husband, now you have nick'd the Matter. To have
him peach'd is the only thing could ever make me forgive her.
