_Trick._ For, you know, sir, when Mrs Brainsick and I over-heard her coming, having been before acquainted with her wicked purpose, we both agreed to trap her in it. _Mrs Brain._ And now she would 'scape herself, by accusing us! but let us both conclude to cast an infamy upon her house, and leave it. _Saint._ Sweet Mr Woodall, intercede for me, or I shall be ruined. _Wood._ Well, for once I'll be good-natured, and try my interest.-- Pray, ladies, for my sake, let this business go no farther. _Trick. and Mrs Brain._ You may command us. _Wood._ For, look you, the offence was properly to my person; and charity has taught me to forgive my enemies. I hope, Mrs Saintly, this will be a warning to you, to amend your life: I speak like a Christian, as one that tenders the welfare of your soul. _Saint._ Verily, I will consider. _Wood._ Why, that is well said.--[_Aside._] Gad, and so must I too; for my people is dissatisfied, and my government in danger: But this is no place for meditation.--Ladies, I wait on you. [_Exeunt._ ACT IV.--SCENE I. _Enter_ ALDO _and_ GEOFFERY. _Aldo._ Despatch, Geoffery, despatch: The outlying punks will be upon us, ere I am in a readiness to give audience. Is the office well provided? _Geoff._ The stores are very low, sir: Some dolly petticoats, and manteaus we have; and half a dozen pair of laced shoes, bought from court at second hand. _Aldo._ Before George, there is not enough to rig out a mournival of whores: They'll think me grown a mere curmudgeon. Mercy on me, how will this glorious trade be carried on, with such a miserable stock! _Geoff._ I hear a coach already stopping at the door. _Aldo._ Well, somewhat in ornament for the body, somewhat in counsel for the mind; one thing must help out another, in this bad world: Whoring must go on. _Enter Mrs_ OVERDON, _and her Daughter_ PRUE. _Mrs Over._ Ask blessing, Prue: He is the best father you ever had. _Aldo._ Bless thee, and make thee a substantial, thriving whore. Have your mother in your eye, Prue; it is good to follow good example. How old are you, Prue? Hold up your head, child. _Pru._ Going o'my sixteen, father Aldo. _Aldo._ And you have been initiated but these two years: Loss of time, loss of precious time! Mrs Overdon, how much have you made of Prue, since she has been man's meat? _Mrs Over._ A very small matter, by my troth; considering the charges I have been at in her education: Poor Prue was born under an unlucky planet; I despair of a coach for her. Her first maiden-head brought me in but little, the weather-beaten old knight, that bought her of me, beat down the price so low. I held her at an hundred guineas, and he bid ten; and higher than thirty would not rise. _Aldo._ A pox of his unlucky handsel! He can but fumble, and will not pay neither.