[Puts on her mask.]

SETTER. Why, if I were known, I might come to be a great man -

LUCY. Not to interrupt your meditation -

SETTER. And I should not be the first that has procured his
greatness by pimping.

LUCY. Now poverty and the pox light upon thee for a contemplative
pimp.

SETTER. Ha! what art who thus maliciously hast awakened me from my
dream of glory? Speak, thou vile disturber -

LUCY. Of thy most vile cogitations--thou poor, conceited wretch,
how wert thou valuing thyself upon thy master's employment? For
he's the head pimp to Mr. Bellmour.

SETTER. Good words, damsel, or I shall--But how dost thou know my
master or me?

LUCY. Yes; I know both master and man to be -

SETTER. To be men, 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.