Reflecting upon her daughter’s marriage to the criminal Macheath, Mrs. Peachum uses two closely related similes, the first comparing a “maid”—or unmarried woman—to unprocessed gold, and the second comparing a wife to gold currency:
A Maid is like the golden Oar,
Which hath Guineas intrinsical in’t,
Whose Worth is never known, before
It is try’d and imprest* in the Mint.
A Wife’s like a Guinea in Gold,
Stampt with the Name of her Spouse;
Now here, now there; is bought, or is sold; ‘
And is current in every House.
Mr. Peachum opposes the marriage, as he feels that Polly will be less valuable when she is married and thus no longer desirable to men. Mrs. Peachum, however, believes that he is being too rash and that marriage might actually increase Polly’s value. A young, unmarried woman, she claims, is “like the golden Oar” (“ore” in modern spelling) insofar as both are imbued with intrinsic value that has not yet been tested or measured.
A married woman, in contrast, is “like a Guinea in Gold, / Stampt with the Name of her Spouse.” In other words, the suggestion here is that a wife has fixed value, like legal currency, because she has already been chosen by a man and therefore carries his name just as a coin carries the name and face of the monarch who guarantees its value. Concluding, she notes that, much as a coin is exchanged between many hands in the course of commerce, a wife “is current in every House.” The respectability of a wife, then, ironically provides greater opportunities for sex work.
Speaking bitterly of Polly’s decision to marry for love rather than for money, Mrs. Peachum uses a simile and an early modern idiom that plays on the common perception at the time of cucumbers as particularly unappealing.
Our Polly is a sad Slut! nor heeds what we have taught her.
I wonder any Man alive will ever rear a Daughter!
For she must have both Hoods and Gowns, and Hoops to swell her Pride,
With Scarfs and Stays, and Gloves and Lace; and she will have Men beside;
And when she’s drest with Care and Cost, all-tempting, fine and gay,
As Men should serve a Cowcumber, she flings herself away.
Mrs. Peachum condemns her daughter’s choice in partner in no uncertain terms, accusing her of naively wasting the resources her family has dedicated to fashioning her as a promising young woman. First, she argues that it is expensive to raise a daughter, as young women demand to be dressed in the latest, costly trends, with “Hoods and Gowns, and Hoops” as well as “Scarfs and Stays, and Gloves and Lace.” Next, she argues that young women don’t properly value themselves despite this expensive attire; a daughter, she claims, “flings herself away” on any undeserving young man despite how much has been invested in her by her parents.
Here, she notes that young women treat themselves as if they have no value just as “Men should serve a Cowcumber,” (“cucumber” in contemporary English.) In the early 18th century, cucumbers were considered a low quality vegetable that held little appeal. Men in particular were thought to prefer heavier and meatier dishes. Mrs. Peachum, then, imagines young women as behaving as if they are worthless in much the same way that a man might toss a cucumber off his plate without a second thought.
Attempting to persuade her father to accept her marriage to the criminal Macheath, Polly uses an extended simile that compares women who have lost their virginity to cut flowers.
Virgins are like the fair Flower in its Lustre,
Which in the Garden enamels the Ground;
Near it the Bees in Play flutter and cluster,
And gaudy Butterflies frolick around.
But, when once pluck’d, ’tis no longer alluring,
To Covent-Garden* ’tis sent, (as yet sweet,)
There fades, and shrinks, and grows past all enduring,
Rots, stinks, and dies, and is trod under feet.
Here, Polly’s goal is to assure her father that she understands that her value as a young woman is closely tied to her own status as a maid or virgin and that she will not enter into sexual relations with Macheath until he has made good on his vow of marriage. Virgins, she claims, “are like the fair Flower in its Luster.” These flowers are considered appealing to all, attracting bees and butterflies. “Once pluck’d,” however, these flowers are “no longer alluring” and are ultimately sent to the flower market in order to be sold in a bouquet. Though such flowers are “sweet” at first, the cut flower ultimately “rots, stinks, and dies,” losing all of its appeal and value to others. Polly’s simile, then, reproduces the logic by which feminine value is intrinsically tied to sexual appeal in her surrounding society. Women who surrender themselves to men too easily, she implies, are devalued in society.
In a tavern near Newgate Prison, where Macheath will later be imprisoned, Matt of the Mint uses a paradox and a simile in his defense of his criminal profession to the other members of Macheath’s gang of thieves:
We retrench the Superfluities of Mankind. The World is avaritious, and I hate Avarice. A covetous fellow, like a Jack-daw, steals what he was never made to enjoy, for the sake of hiding it. These are the Robbers of Mankind, for Money was made for the Free-hearted and Generous, and where is the Injury of taking from another, what he hath not the Heart to make use of?
Matt of the Mint suggests that he is not motivated by “Avarice” or greed but by his disapproval of greed in others. In a simile, he claims that the targets of his robbery are “like a Jack-daw” (a kind of bird) hoarding possessions they were “never made to enjoy, for the sake of hiding it.” In other words, those who guard their possessions do so not out of enjoyment of what they own but because they selfishly want to keep these things from others. In a paradox, Matt of the Mint insists that the legal owners of these possessions are the true “Robbers of Mankind,” as they are too selfish to give up their belongings freely in the spirit of generosity and charity—he thus presents the paradoxical claim that he disapproves of greed and that this justifies his decision to steal (which, of course, is a greedy thing to do).
Matt of the Mint’s condemnation of those who own an excess of belongings or money, or what he refers to as “Superfluities,” gives voice to the legitimate resentments of the “have-nots” of London society. On the other hand, his speech here is clearly self-serving, as he seeks personal wealth for himself, not economic justice for the poor.
Lucy, who claims to be married to Macheath, uses an extended simile to express her tumultuous feelings after her confrontation with Lucy:
I’m like a Skiff on the Ocean tost,
Now high, now low, with each Billow born,
With her Rudder broke, and her Anchor lost,
Deserted and all forlorn.
While thus I lye rolling and tossing all Night,
That Polly lyes sporting on Seas of Delight!
Revenge, Revenge, Revenge,
Shall appease my restless Sprite.
In this short, sung verse, Lucy compares herself in a simile to a “Skiff”—or small boat—that has been “tost” (tossed) around the ocean, rising and falling with each new wind. Finally accepting that Macheath has indeed married Polly, Lucy further develops this nautical simile, imagining her “Rudder broke, and her Anchor lost” after having been betrayed and deserted by the man she loves. Reflecting her restless, dark mood, she imagines the boat as “rolling and tossing all Night” in the ocean. Polly, meanwhile, is imagined as “Sporting on Seas of Delight” in her happy marital union with Macheath.
This speech marks one of many instances in the play in which Polly and Lucy fail to recognize that they are both victims of Macheath’s self-serving deceptions. Rather than working together to discover the truth, they instead compete with each other for Macheath’s affection. Here, Lucy notes the volatile nature of her feelings, both agony and fury. The image of Polly enjoying the smooth “Seas of Delight” enrages Lucy, who reaches a drastic conclusion: she must poison Polly in order to claim Macheath for herself.
At the conclusion of the story, Macheath has been miraculously spared from the hangman’s noose and joins his friends and acquaintances in a merry celebration. In an extended simile, he compares himself to a “Turk” who is surrounded by women in a harem:
Thus I stand like the Turk, with his Doxies around;
From all Sides their Glances his Passion confound;
For black, brown, and fair, his Inconstancy burns,
And the different Beauties subdue him by turns:
Each calls forth her Charms, to provoke his Desires:
Though willing to all; with but one he retires.
Here, Macheath alludes to the figure of the Ottoman sultan, whose harem of women was an object of fascination for European artists and writers in the early modern period. “Like the Turk,” he is surrounded by “Doxies,” a derisive term for “women” similar in tone and meaning to “wench.” With so many beautiful women around him, his “Passion” is confounded—or, in other words, he feels unable to select just one woman. Each woman enchants him “by turns,” and he marvels at the variety of women available to him, “black, brown, and fair,” as each one "calls forth her Charms." Ultimately, however, he selects only one.
Macheath’s simile describes the scene presented to him at the end of the story, as the myriad women to whom he has promised marriage—including Polly and Lucy—have come to witness his execution and unexpected release. Just as the “Turk” he alludes to must ultimately pick one woman from among a harem, so too has Macheath finally made his decision, choosing to marry Polly. However, his simile calls his future faithfulness to Polly into question. The Sultan might pick another woman on a different day, and Macheath hints that he is “willing” to enter into a relationship with any of the women.
