Wood. Peace, you lying rogue!—­Believe me, sir, bating his necessary expences of women, which I know you would not have him want, in all things else, he was the best manager of your allowance; and, though I say it—­

Gerv. [Aside.] That should not say it.

Wood. The most hopeful young gentleman in Paris.

Aldo. Report speaks otherwise; and, before George, I shall read him a wormwood lecture, when I see him.  But, hark, I hear the door unlock; the lovers are coming out:  I’ll stay here, to wheedle him abroad; but you must vanish.

Wood. Like night and the moon, in the Maid’s Tragedy:  I into mist; you into day[5]. [Exeunt WOOD. and GER.

SCENE changes to LIMBERHAM’S apartment.

  Enter LIMBERHAM and TRICKSY.

Limb. Nay, but dear sweet honey Pug, forgive me but this once:  It may be any man’s case, when his desires are too vehement.

Trick. Let me alone; I care not.

Limb. But then thou wilt not love me, Pug.

Aldo. How now, son Limberham?  There’s no quarrel towards, I hope.

Trick. You had best tell now, and make yourself ridiculous.

Limb. She’s in passion:  Pray do you moderate this matter, father Aldo.

Trick. Father Aldo!  I wonder you are not ashamed to call him so; you may be his father, if the truth were known.

Aldo. Before George, I smell a rat, son Limberham.  I doubt, I doubt, here has been some great omission in love affairs.

Limb. I think all the stars in heaven have conspired my ruin.  I’ll look in my almanack.—­As I hope for mercy, ’tis cross day now.

Trick. Hang your pitiful excuses.  ’Tis well known what offers I have had, and what fortunes I might have made with others, like a fool as I was, to throw away my youth and beauty upon you.  I could have had a young handsome lord, that offered me my coach and six; besides many a good knight and gentleman, that would have parted with their own ladies, and have settled half they had upon me.

Limb. Ay, you said so.

Trick. I said so, sir!  Who am I?  Is not my word as good as yours?

Limb. As mine gentlewoman? though I say it, my word will go for thousands.

Trick. The more shame for you, that you have done no more for me:  But I am resolved I’ll not lose my time with you; I’ll part.

Limb. Do, who cares?  Go to Dog-and-Bitch yard, and help your mother to make footmen’s shirts.

Trick. I defy you, slanderer; I defy you.

Aldo. Nay, dear daughter!

Limb. I defy her too.

Aldo. Nay, good son!

Trick. Let me alone:  I’ll have him cudgelled by my footman.