The Works of John Dryden, Volume 6 | Page 5

author dares not be the first
bold man. He, like the prudent citizen, takes care, To keep for better
marts his staple ware; His toys are good enough for Sturbridge fair.
Tricks were the fashion; if it now be spent, 'Tis time enough at Easter,
to invent; No man will make up a new suit for Lent. If now and then he
takes a small pretence, To forage for a little wit and sense, Pray pardon
him, he meant you no offence. Next summer, Nostradamus tells, they
say, That all the critics shall be shipped away, And not enow be left to
damn a play. To every sail beside, good heaven, be kind; But drive

away that swarm with such a wind, That not one locust may be left
behind!

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
ALDO, _an honest, good-natured, free-hearted old gentleman of the
town._ WOODALL, _his son, under a false name; bred abroad, and
now returned from travel._ LIMBERHAM, _a tame, foolish keeper,
persuaded by what is last said to him, and changing next word._
BRAINSICK, _a husband, who, being well conceited of himself,
despises his wife: vehement and eloquent, as he thinks; but indeed a
talker of nonsense._ GERVASE, WOODALL'S _man: formal, and apt
to give good counsel._ GILES, WOODALL'S _cast servant._
MRS SAINTLY, _an hypocritical fanatic, landlady of the
boarding-house._ MRS TRICKSY, _a termagant kept mistress._ MRS
PLEASANCE, supposed daughter to MRS SAINTLY: _Spiteful and
satirical; but secretly in love with_ WOODALL. MRS BRAINSICK.
JUDITH, _a maid of the house._
SCENE--_A Boarding-house in Town._

LIMBERHAM;
OR, THE
KIND KEEPER.
ACT I.
SCENE I.--_An open Garden-House; a table in it, and chairs._
Enter WOODALL and GERVASE.
_Wood._ Bid the footman receive the trunks and portmantua; and see
them placed in the lodgings you have taken for me, while I walk a turn

here in the garden.
_Gerv._ It is already ordered, sir. But they are like to stay in the
outer-room, till the mistress of the house return from morning exercise.
_Wood._ What, she's gone to the parish church, it seems, to her
devotions!
_Gerv._ No, sir; the servants have informed me, that she rises every
morning, and goes to a private meeting-house; where they pray for the
government, and practise against the authority of it.
_Wood._ And hast thou trepanned me into a tabernacle of the godly? Is
this pious boarding-house a place for me, thou wicked varlet?
_Gerv._ According to human appearance, I must confess, it is neither
fit for you, nor you for it; but have patience, sir; matters are not so bad
as they may seem. There are pious bawdy-houses in the world, or
conventicles would not be so much frequented. Neither is it impossible,
but a devout fanatic landlady of a boarding-house may be a bawd.
_Wood._ Ay, to those of her own church, I grant you, Gervase; but I
am none of those.
_Gerv._ If I were worthy to read you a lecture in the mystery of
wickedness, I would instruct you first in the art of seeming holiness:
But, heaven be thanked, you have a toward and pregnant genius to vice,
and need not any man's instruction; and I am too good, I thank my stars,
for the vile employment of a pimp.
_Wood._ Then thou art even too good for me; a worse man will serve
my turn.
_Gerv._ I call your conscience to witness, how often I have given you
wholesome counsel; how often I have said to you, with tears in my eyes,
master, or master Aldo--
_Wood._ Mr Woodall, you rogue! that is my _nomme de guerre._ You

know I have laid by Aldo, for fear that name should bring me to the
notice of my father.
_Gerv._ Cry you mercy, good Mr Woodall. How often have I
said,--Into what courses do you run! Your father sent you into France at
twelve years old; bred you up at Paris, first in a college, and then at an
academy: At the first, instead of running through a course of
philosophy, you ran through all the bawdy-houses in town: At the latter,
instead of managing the great horse, you exercised on your master's
wife. What you did in Germany, I know not; but that you beat them all
at their own weapon, drinking, and have brought home a goblet of plate
from Munster, for the prize of swallowing a gallon of Rhenish more
than the bishop.
_Wood._ Gervase, thou shalt be my chronicler; thou losest none of my
heroic actions.
_Gerv._ What a comfort are you like to prove to your good old father!
You have run a campaigning among the French these last three years,
without his leave; and now he sends for you back, to settle you in the
world, and marry you to the heiress of a rich gentleman, of