Mrs. Vixen. Lace, Madam, lies in a small Compass,
and is of easy Conveyance. But you are apt, Madam, to think too well of your Friends.
Mrs. Coaxer. If any woman hath more Art than another, to be sure, ’tis Jenny Diver. Though her Fellow be never so agreeable, she can pick his Pocket as coolly, as if money were her only Pleasure. Now that is a Command of the Passions uncommon in a Woman!
Jenny. I never go to the Tavern with a Man, but in the View of Business. I have other Hours, and other sort of Men for my Pleasure. But had I your Address, Madam—
Macheath. Have done with your Compliments, Ladies; and drink about: You are not so fond of me, Jenny, as you use to be.
Jenny. ’Tis not convenient, Sir, to shew my Fondness among so many Rivals. ’Tis your own Choice, and not the Warmth of my Inclination that will determine you.
[ AIR XXIII. All in a misty Morning, &c.]
Before the Barn-Door crowing,