Full Title: The Beggar’s Opera. As it is Acted at the Theatre-Royal in Lincolns-Inn-Fields. Written by Mr. Gay. The Second Edition, to which is Added, The Ouverture in Score; And the Musick prefix’d to each Song. London: Printed for John Watts, at the Printing-Office in Wild-Court, near Lincolns-Inn-Fields, MDCCXXVIII.
A TABLE OF THE SONGS.
ACT I.
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Through all the Employments of Life.
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‘Tis Woman that seduces Mankind.
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If any Wench Venus’s Girdle wear.
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If Love the Virgin’s Heart invade.
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A Maid is like the golden Oar.
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Virgins are like the fair Flowere in its Lustre.
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Our Polly is a sad slut!nor heeds what we have thought her.
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Can Love be controul’d by Advice?
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O Polly, you might have toy’d and kist.
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I, like a Ship in Storms, was tost.
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A Fox may steal your Hens, Sir.
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Oh, ponder well! be not severe.
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The Turtle thus with plaintive crying.
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Pretty Polly, say.
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My Heart was so free.
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Were I laid on Greenland’s Coast.
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O what Pain it is to part!
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The Miser thus a Shilling sees.
ACT II.
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Fill ev’ry Glass, for Wine inspires us.
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Let us take the Road.
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If the Heart of a Man is deprest with Cares.
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Youth’s the Season made for Joys.
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Before the Barn-door crowing.
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The Gamesters and Lawyers are Jugglers alike.
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At the Tree I shall suffer with pleasure.
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Man may escape from Rope and Gun.
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Thus when a good Huswife sees a Rat.
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How cruel are the Traytors.
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The first time at the Looking-glass.
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When you censure the Age.
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Is then his Fate decreed, Sir?
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You’ll think e’er many Dasy ensue.
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If you are at an Office solicit your Due.
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Thus when the Swallow, seeking Prey.
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How happy could I be with either.
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I’m bubbled.
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Cease your Funning.
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Why how now, Madam Flirt.
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No Power on Earth can e’er divide.
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I like the Fox shall grieve.
ACT III.
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When young at the Bar you first taught me to score.
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My Love is all Madness and Folly.
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Thus Gamesters united in Friendship are found.
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The Modes of the Court so common are grown.
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What Gudgeons are we Men!
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In the Days of my Youth I could bill like a Dove, fa, la, la, &c.
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I’m like a Skiff on the Ocean tost.
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When a Wife’s in a Pout.
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A Curse attends that Woman’s Love.
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Among the Men, Coquets we find.
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Come, sweet Lass.
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Hither, dear Husband, turn your Eyes.
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Which way shall I turn me? –How can I decide.
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When my Hero in Court appears.
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When he holds up his Hand arraign’d for his Life.
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Our selves, like the Great, to secure a Retreat.
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The Charge is prepar’d; the Lawyers met.
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O cruel, cruel, cruel Case.
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Of all the Friends in time of Grief.
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Since I must swing, –I scorn, I scorn to wince or whine.
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But now again my Spirits sink.
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But Valour the stronger grows.
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If thus ———- A Man can die.So I drink off this Bumper. –And now I can stand the Test.
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But I can leave my pretty Hussies.
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Their Eyes, their Lips, their Busses.
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Since Laws were made for ev’ry Degree.
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Would I might be hang’d!
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Thus I stnad like the Turk, with his Dexies around.
Eighteenth-Century Reading Room 