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.

BLUFF. And so, out of your unwonted generosity--

SIR JO. And good-nature, Back; I am good-natured and I can't help it.

BLUFF. You have given him a note upon Fondlewife for a hundred pound.

SIR JO. Ay, ay, poor fellow; he ventured fair for't.

BLUFF. You have disobliged me in it--for I have occasion for the money, and if you would look me in the face again and live, go, and force him to redeliver you the note. Go, and bring it me hither. I'll stay here for you.

SIR JO. You may stay until the day of judgment, then, by the Lord Harry.

I know better things than to be run through the guts for a hundred pounds. Why, I gave that hundred pound for being saved, and de'e think, an there were no danger, I'll be so ungrateful to take it from the gentleman again?

BLUFF. Well, go to him from me--tell him, I say, he must refund--or Bilbo's the world, and slaughter will ensue. If he refuse, tell him--but whisper that--tell him--I'll pink his soul. But whisper that softly to him.

SIR JO. So softly that he shall never hear on't, I warrant you. Why, what a devil's the matter, Bully; are you mad? or de'e think I'm mad?

Agad, for my part, I don't love to be the messenger of ill news; 'tis an ungrateful office--so tell him yourself.

BLUFF. By these hilts I believe he frightened you into this composition: I believe you gave it him out of fear, pure, paltry fear--confess.

SIR JO. No, no, hang't; I was not afraid neither--though I confess he did in a manner snap me up--yet I can't say that it was altogether out of fear, but partly to prevent mischief--for he was a devilish choleric fellow. And if my choler had been up too, agad, there would have been mischief done, that's flat. And yet I believe if you had been by, I would as soon have let him a' had a hundred of my teeth. Adsheart, if he should come just now when I'm angry, I'd tell him--Mum.

SCENE VIII.

[_To them_] BELLMOUR, SHARPER.

BELL. Thou 'rt a lucky rogue; there's your benefactor; you ought to return him thanks now you have received the favour.

SHARP. Sir Joseph! Your note was accepted, and the money paid at sight.

I'm come to return my thanks--

SIR JO. They won't be accepted so readily as the bill, sir.

BELL. I doubt the knight repents, Tom. He looks like the knight of the sorrowful face.

SHARP. This is a double generosity: do me a kindness and refuse my thanks. But I hope you are not offended that I offered them.

SIR JO. May be I am, sir, may be I am not, sir, may be I am both, sir; what then? I hope I may be offended without any offence to you, sir.

SHARP. Hey day! Captain, what's the matter? You can tell.

BLUFF. Mr. Sharper, the matter is plain: Sir Joseph has found out your trick, and does not care to be put upon, being a man of honour.

SHARP. Trick, sir?

SIR JO. Ay, trick, sir, and won't be put upon, sir, being a man of honour, sir, and so, sir--