Part 12 (1/2)

LUCY. Hang thee, beggar's cur, thy master is but a mumper in love, lies canting at the gate; but never dares presume to enter the house.

SETTER. Thou art the wicket to thy mistress's gate, to be opened for all comers. In fine thou art the highroad to thy mistress.

LUCY. Beast, filthy toad, I can hold no longer, look and tremble.

[_Unmasks_.]

SETTER. How, Mrs. Lucy!

LUCY. I wonder thou hast the impudence to look me in the face.

SETTER. Adsbud, who's in fault, mistress of mine? who flung the first stone? who undervalued my function? and who the devil could know you by instinct?

LUCY. You could know my office by instinct, and be hanged, which you have slandered most abominably. It vexes me not what you said of my person; but that my innocent calling should be exposed and scandalised--I cannot bear it.

SETTER. Nay, faith, Lucy, I'm sorry, I'll own myself to blame, though we were both in fault as to our offices--come, I'll make you any reparation.

LUCY. Swear.

SETTER. I do swear to the utmost of my power.

LUCY. To be brief, then; what is the reason your master did not appear to-day according to the summons I brought him?

SETTER. To answer you as briefly--he has a cause to be tried in another court.

LUCY. Come, tell me in plain terms, how forward he is with Araminta.

SETTER. Too forward to be turned back--though he's a little in disgrace at present about a kiss which he forced. You and I can kiss, Lucy, without all that.

LUCY. Stand off--he's a precious jewel.

SETTER. And therefore you'd have him to set in your lady's locket.

LUCY. Where is he now?

SETTER. He'll be in the Piazza presently.

LUCY. Remember to-day's behaviour. Let me see you with a penitent face.

SETTER. What, no token of amity, Lucy? You and I don't use to part with dry lips.

LUCY. No, no, avaunt--I'll not be slabbered and kissed now--I'm not i'

th' humour.

SETTER. I'll not quit you so. I'll follow and put you into the humour.

SCENE VII.

SIR JOSEPH WITTOLL, BLUFFE.