fit for you, nor you for it; but have patience, sir; matters are not
so bad as they may seem. There are pious bawdy-houses in the world, or
conventicles would not be so much frequented. Neither is it
impossible, but a devout fanatic landlady of a boarding-house may be a
bawd.

_Wood._ Ay, to those of her own church, I grant you, Gervase; but I am
none of those.

_Gerv._ If I were worthy to read you a lecture in the mystery of
wickedness, I would instruct you first in the art of seeming holiness:
But, heaven be thanked, you have a toward and pregnant genius to vice,
and need not any man's instruction; and I am too good, I thank my
stars, for the vile employment of a pimp.

_Wood._ Then thou art even too good for me; a worse man will serve my
turn.

_Gerv._ I call your conscience to witness, how often I have given you
wholesome counsel; how often I have said to you, with tears in my
eyes, master, or master Aldo--

_Wood._ Mr Woodall, you rogue! that is my _nomme de guerre._ You know
I have laid by Aldo, for fear that name should bring me to the notice
of my father.

_Gerv._ Cry you mercy, good Mr Woodall. How often have I said,--Into
what courses do you run! Your father sent you into France at twelve
years old; bred you up at Paris, first in a college, and then at an
academy: At the first, instead of running through a course of