_Aldo._ Daughter Tricksy, are you there, child? your friends at Barnet
are all well, and your dear master Limberham, that noble Hephestion,
is returning with them.

_Trick._ And you are come upon the spur before, to acquaint me with
the news.

_Aldo._ Well, thou art the happiest rogue in a kind keeper! He drank
thy health five times, _supernaculum_,[2] to my son Brain-sick; and
dipt my daughter Pleasance's little finger, to make it go down more
glibly:[3] And, before George, I grew tory rory, as they say, and
strained a brimmer through the lily-white smock, i'faith.

_Trick._ You will never leave these fumbling tricks, father, till you
are taken up on suspicion of manhood, and have a bastard laid at your
door: I am sure you would own it, for your credit.

_Aldo._ Before George, I should not see it starve, for the mother's
sake: For, if she were a punk, she was good-natured, I warrant her.

_Wood._ [_Aside._] Well, if ever son was blest with a hopeful father,
I am.

_Trick._ Who is that gentleman with you?

_Aldo._ A young _monsieur_ returned from travel; a lusty young rogue;
a true-milled whoremaster, with the right stamp. He is a
fellow-lodger, incorporate in our society: For whose sake he came
hither, let him tell you.