The Old Bachelor [15]
perhaps; nay, faith, like enough: I often march in the rear of my master, and enter the breaches which he has made.
LUCY. Ay, the breach of faith, which he has begun: thou traitor to thy lawful princess.
SETTER. Why, how now! prithee who art? Lay by that worldly face and produce your natural vizor.
LUCY. No, sirrah, I'll keep it on to abuse thee and leave thee without hopes of revenge.
SETTER. Oh! I begin to smoke ye: thou art some forsaken Abigail we have dallied with heretofore--and art come to tickle thy imagination with remembrance of iniquity past.
LUCY. No thou pitiful flatterer of thy master's imperfections; thou maukin made up of the shreds and parings of his superfluous fopperies.
SETTER. Thou art thy mistress's foul self, composed of her sullied iniquities and clothing.
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;
LUCY. Ay, the breach of faith, which he has begun: thou traitor to thy lawful princess.
SETTER. Why, how now! prithee who art? Lay by that worldly face and produce your natural vizor.
LUCY. No, sirrah, I'll keep it on to abuse thee and leave thee without hopes of revenge.
SETTER. Oh! I begin to smoke ye: thou art some forsaken Abigail we have dallied with heretofore--and art come to tickle thy imagination with remembrance of iniquity past.
LUCY. No thou pitiful flatterer of thy master's imperfections; thou maukin made up of the shreds and parings of his superfluous fopperies.
SETTER. Thou art thy mistress's foul self, composed of her sullied iniquities and clothing.
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;