_Wood._ Well, get thee gone, 'squire Limberhamo, for the easiest fool I ever knew, next my naunt of fairies in the Alchemist[4]. I have escaped, thanks to my mistress's _lingua Franca_: I'll steal to my chamber, shift my perriwig and clothes; and then, with the help of resty Gervase, concert the business of the next campaign. My father sticks in my stomach still; but I am resolved to be Woodall with him, and Aldo with the women. [_Exit._ ACT II. SCENE I. _Enter_ WOODALL _and_ GERVASE. _Wood._ Hitherto, sweet Gervase, we have carried matters swimmingly. I have danced in a net before my father, almost check-mated the keeper, retired to my chamber undiscovered, shifted my habit, and am come out an absolute monsieur, to allure the ladies. How sits my _chedreux_? _Gerv._ O very finely! with the locks combed down, like a mermaid's on a sign-post. Well, you think now your father may live in the same house with you till doomsday, and never find you; or, when he has found you, he will be kind enough not to consider what a property you have made of him. My employment is at an end; you have got a better pimp, thanks to your filial reverence. _Wood._ Pr'ythee, what should a man do with such a father, but use him thus? besides, he does journey-work under me; 'tis his humour to fumble, and my duty to provide for his old age. _Gerv._ Take my advice yet; down o' your marrow bones, and ask forgiveness; espouse the wife he has provided for you; lie by the side of a wholesome woman, and procreate your own progeny in the fear of heaven. _Wood._ I have no vocation to it, Gervase: A man of sense is not made for marriage; 'tis a game, which none but dull plodding fellows can play at well; and 'tis as natural to them, as crimp is to a Dutchman. _Gerv._ Think on't, however, sir; debauchery is upon its last legs in England: Witty men began the fashion, and now the fops are got into it, 'tis time to leave it. _Enter_ ALDO. _Aldo._ Son Woodall, thou vigorous young rogue, I congratulate thy good fortune; thy man has told me the adventure of the Italian merchant. _Wood._ Well, they are now retired together, like Rinaldo and Armida, to private dalliance; but we shall find a time to separate their loves, and strike in betwixt them, daddy. But I hear there's another lady in the house, my landlady's fair daughter; how came you to leave her out of your catalogue? _Aldo._ She's pretty, I confess, but most damnably honest; have a care of her, I warn you, for she's prying and malicious. _Wood._ A twang of the mother; but I love to graff on such a crab-tree; she may bear good fruit another year. _Aldo._ No, no, avoid her; I warrant thee, young Alexander, I will provide thee more worlds to conquer. _Gerv._ [_Aside._] My old master would fain pass for Philip of Macedon, when he is little better than Sir Pandarus of Troy. _Wood._ If you get this keeper out of doors, father, and give me but an opportunity--