Wood. Might not I ask you one civil question?  How pass you your time in this noble family?  For I find you are a lover of the game, and I should be loth to hunt in your purlieus.

Aldo. I must first tell you something of my condition.  I am here a friend to all of them; I am their factotum, do all their business; for, not to boast, sir, I am a man of general acquaintance:  There is no news in town, either foreign or domestic, but I have it first; no mortgage of lands, no sale of houses, but I have a finger in them.

Wood. Then, I suppose, you are a gainer by your pains.

Aldo. No, I do all gratis, and am most commonly a loser; only a buck sometimes from this good lord, or that good lady in the country:  and I eat it not alone, I must have company.

Wood. Pray, what company do you invite?

Aldo. Peace, peace, I am coming to you:  Why, you must know I am tender-natured; and if any unhappy difference have arisen betwixt a mistress and her gallant, then I strike in, to do good offices betwixt them; and, at my own proper charges, conclude the quarrel with a reconciling supper.

Wood. I find the ladies of pleasure are beholden to you.

Aldo. Before George, I love the poor little devils.  I am indeed a father to them, and so they call me:  I give them my counsel, and assist them with my purse.  I cannot see a pretty sinner hurried to prison by the land-pirates, but nature works, and I must bail her; or want a supper, but I have a couple of crammed chickens, a cream tart, and a bottle of wine to offer her.

Wood. Sure you expect some kindness in return.

Aldo. Faith, not much:  Nature in me is at low water-mark; my body’s a jade, and tires under me; yet I love to smuggle still in a corner; pat them down, and pur over them; but, after that, I can do them little harm.

Wood. Then I’m acquainted with your business:  You would be a kind of deputy-fumbler under me.

Aldo. You have me right.  Be you the lion, to devour the prey; I am your jackall, to provide it for you:  There will be a bone for me to pick.

Wood. Your humility becomes your age.  For my part, I am vigorous, and throw at all.

Aldo. As right as if I had begot thee!  Wilt thou give me leave to call thee son?

Wood. With all my heart.

Aldo. Ha, mad son!

Wood. Mad daddy!

Aldo. Your man told me, you were just returned from travel:  What parts have you last visited?

Wood. I came from France.

Aldo. Then, perhaps, you may have known an ungracious boy of mine there.

Wood. Like enough:  Pray, what’s his name?

Aldo. George Aldo.

Wood. I must confess I do know the gentleman; satisfy yourself, he’s in health, and upon his return.