The Works of John Dryden, Volume 6 | Page 8

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.
_Aldo._ That's some comfort: But, I hear, a very rogue, a lewd young fellow.
_Wood._ The worst I know of him is, that he loves a wench; and that good quality he has not stolen. [_Music at the Balcony over head: Mrs_ TRICKSY and JUDITH _appear._]--Hark! There's music above.
_Aldo._ 'Tis at my daughter Tricksy's lodging; the kept mistress I told you of, the lass of mettle. But for all she carries it so high, I know her pedigree; her mother's a sempstress in Dog-and-Bitch yard, and was, in her youth, as right as she is.
_Wood._ Then she's a two-piled punk, a punk of two descents.
_Aldo._ And her father, the famous cobler, who taught Walsingham to the black-birds. How stand thy affections to her, thou lusty rogue?
_Wood._ All on fire: A most urging creature!
_Aldo._ Peace! they are beginning.
A SONG.
I.
_'Gainst keepers we petition, Who would inclose the common: 'Tis enough to raise sedition In the free-born subject, woman. Because for his gold, I my body have sold, He thinks I'm a slave for my life; He rants, domineers, He swaggers and swears, And would keep me as bare as his wife._
II.
_'Gainst keepers we petition, &c. 'Tis honest and fair, That a feast I prepare; But when his dull appetite's o'er, I'll treat with the rest Some welcomer guest, For the reckoning was paid me before._
_Wood._ A song against keepers! this makes well for us lusty lovers.
_Trick._ [_Above._] Father, father Aldo!
_Aldo._ Daughter Tricksy, are you there, child? your friends at Barnet are all well, and your dear master Limberham, that noble Hephestion, is returning with them.
_Trick._ And you are come upon the spur before, to acquaint me with the news.
_Aldo._ Well, thou art the happiest rogue in a kind keeper! He drank thy health five times, supernaculum,[2] to my son Brain-sick; and dipt my daughter Pleasance's little finger, to make it go down more glibly:[3] And, before George, I grew tory rory, as they say, and strained a brimmer through the lily-white smock, i'faith.
_Trick._ You will never leave these fumbling tricks, father, till you are taken up on suspicion of manhood, and have a bastard laid at your door: I am sure you would own it, for your credit.
_Aldo._ Before George, I should not see it starve, for the mother's sake: For, if she were a punk, she was good-natured, I warrant her.
_Wood._ [_Aside._] Well, if ever son was blest with a hopeful father, I am.
_Trick._ Who is that gentleman with you?
_Aldo._ A young monsieur returned from travel; a lusty young rogue; a true-milled whoremaster, with the right stamp. He is a fellow-lodger, incorporate in our society: For whose sake he came hither, let him tell you.
_Wood._ [_Aside._] Are you gloating already? then there's hopes, i'faith.
_Trick._ You seem to know him, father.
_Aldo._ Know him! from his cradle--What's your name?
_Wood._ Woodall.
_Ald._ Woodall of Woodall; I knew his father; we were contemporaries, and fellow-wenchers in our youth.
_Wood._ [_Aside._] My honest father stumbles into truth, in spite of lying.
_Trick._ I was just coming down to the garden-house, before you came. [TRICKSY _descends._
_Aldo._ I am sorry I cannot stay to present my son, Woodall, to you; but I have set you together, that's enough for me. [_Exit._
_Wood._ [_Alone._] 'Twas my study to avoid my father, and I have run full into his mouth: and yet I have a strong hank upon him too; for I am privy to as many of his virtues, as he is of mine. After all, if I had an ounce of discretion left, I should pursue