raise good Contributions on the Public, if he does not cut himself
short by Murder. Tom Tipple, a guzzling soaking Sot, who is always
too drunk to stand himself, or to make others stand. A Cart is
absolutely necessary for him. Robin of Bagshot, alias Gorgon, alias
Bluff Bob, alias Carbuncle, alias Bob Booty.

[Enter Mrs. Peachum.]

MRS. PEACHUM. What of Bob Booty, Husband? I hope nothing bad hath
betided him. You know, my Dear, he's a favourite Customer of mine.
'Twas he made me a present of this Ring.

PEACHUM. I have set his Name down in the Black List, that's all, my
Dear; he spends his Life among Women, and as soon as his Money is
gone, one or other of the Ladies will hang him for the Reward, and
there's forty Pound lost to us for-ever.

MRS. PEACHUM. You know, my Dear, I never meddle in matters of Death;
I always leave those Affairs to you. Women indeed are bitter bad
Judges in these cases, for they are so partial to the Brave that they
think every Man handsome who is going to the Camp or the Gallows.

AIR III. Cold and raw, &c.

If any Wench Venus's Girdle wear,
Though she be never so ugly;
Lilies and Roses will quickly appear,
And her Face look wond'rous smugly.
Beneath the left Ear so fit but a Cord,
(A Rope so charming a Zone is!)