Air XXIII. All in a Misty Morning, &c.
Before the Barn-Door crowing,
The Cock by Hens attended,
His Eyes around him throwing,
Stands for a while suspended.
Then One he singles from the Crew,
And cheers the happy Hen;
With how do you do, and how do you do,
And how do you do again.
Macheath. Ah Jenny! thou art a dear Slut.
Jenny. A Man of Courage should never put any thing to the Risk but his Life. These are the Tools of a Man of Honour. Cards and Dice are only fit for cowardly Cheats, who prey upon their Friends.
She takes up his Pistol. Tawdry takes up the other.
Tawdry. This, Sir, is fitter for your Hand. Besides your Loss of Money, ’tis a Loss to the Ladies. Gaming takes you off from Women. How fond could I be of you! but before Company ’tis ill bred.
Macheath. Wanton Hussies!
Jenny. I must and will have a Kiss to give my Wine a Zest.
They take him about the Neck and make signs to Peachum and Constables, who rush in upon him.
Peachum. I seize you, Sir, as my Prisoner.
Macheath. Was this well done, Jenny?—Women are Decoy Ducks; who can trust them! Beasts, Jades, Jilts, Harpies, Furies, Whores!
Peachum. Your Case, Mr. Macheath, is not particular. The greatest Heroes have been ruin’d by Women. But, to do them Justice, I must own they are a pretty sort of Creatures, if we could trust them. You must now, Sir, take your Leave of the Ladies, and if they have a mind to make you a Visit, they will be sure to find you at home. This Gentleman, Ladies, lodges in Newgate. Constables, wait upon the Captain to his Lodgings.