_Pru._ Hang him; I could never endure him, father: He is the filthiest old goat; and then he comes every day to our house, and eats out his thirty guineas; and at three months end, he threw me off. _Mrs Over._ And since then, the poor child has dwindled, and dwindled away. Her next maiden-head brought me but ten; and from ten she fell to five; and at last to a single guinea: She has no luck to keeping; they all leave her, the more my sorrow. _Aldo._ We must get her a husband then in the city; they bite rarely at a stale whore at this end of the town, new furbished up in a tawdry manteau. _Mrs Over._ No: Pray let her try her fortune a little longer in the world first: By my troth, I should be loth to be at all this cost, in her French, and her singing, to have her thrown away upon a husband. _Aldo._ Before George, there can come no good of your swearing, Mrs Overdon: Say your prayers, Prue, and go duly to church o'Sundays, you'll thrive the better all the week. Come, have a good heart, child; I will keep thee myself: Thou shalt do my little business; and I'll find thee an able young fellow to do thine. _Enter Mrs_ PAD. Daughter Pad, you are welcome: What, you have performed the last Christian office to your keeper; I saw you follow him up the heavy hill to Tyburn. Have you had never a business since his death? _Mrs Pad._ No indeed, father; never since execution-day. The night before, we lay together most lovingly in Newgate; and the next morning he lift up his eyes, and prepared his soul with a prayer, while one might tell twenty; and then mounted the cart as merrily, as if he had been going for a purse. _Aldo._ You are a sorrowful widow, daughter Pad; but I'll take care of you.--Geoffery, see her rigged out immediately for a new voyage: Look in figure 9, in the upper drawer, and give her out the flowered justacorps, with the petticoat belonging to it. _Mrs Pad._ Could you not help to prefer me, father? _Aldo._ Let me see--let me see:--Before George, I have it, and it comes as pat too! Go me to the very judge that sate upon him; it is an amorous, impotent old magistrate, and keeps admirably. I saw him leer upon you from the bench: He will tell you what is sweeter than strawberries and cream, before you part. _Enter Mrs_ TERMAGANT. _Mrs Term._ O father, I think I shall go mad. _Aldo._ You are of the violentest temper, daughter Termagant! When had you a business last? _Mrs Term._ The last I had was with young Caster, that son-of-a-whore gamester: he brought me to taverns, to draw in young cullies, while he bubbled them at play; and, when he had picked up a considerable sum, and should divide, the cheating dog would sink my share, and swear,--Damn him, he won nothing. _Aldo._ Unconscionable villain, to cozen you in your own calling!