_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. _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.