_Prue._ Then he was hurry'd a way by the mob. A bull-dog ran away with fix joints of his tail, and the claw of his near foot before: At last by good fortune, to save his life, he fell in with the Hockley in the Hole bull and bear; the master claim'd him for his monster, and so he is now attended by a vast mob, very solemnly marching to Hockley in the Hole, with the bear in his front, the bull in his rear, and a monkey upon each shoulder. _Town._ Mr. Mummy, you had best draw the curtains of your chair, or the mob's respect for the dead will scarce protect you. [_Exit Plotwell in a chair._ _Clink._ My concern for him obliges me to go see that he gets off safe, lest any further mischief befalls the persons of our masque. [_Exit Clinket._ _Fos._ Sweetly, Horace. _Nunquam satis_, and so forth. A man can never be too cautious. Madam, sit down by me. Pray how long is it since you and I have been married? _Town._ Near three hours, Sir. _Fos._ And what anxieties has this time produc'd? the dangers of divorce! calumniatory letters! lewd fellows introduc'd by my niece! groundless jealousies on both sides! even thy virginity put to the touch-stone! but this last danger I plung'd thee in myself; to leave thee in the room with two such robust young fellows. _Town._ Ay, with two young fellows! but my dear, I know you did it ignorantly. _Fos._ This is the first blest minute of repose that I have enjoy'd in matrimony. Dost thou know the reason, my dear, why I have chosen thee of all womankind? _Town._ My face, perhaps. _Fos._ No. _Town._ My wit? _Fos._ No. _Town._ My virtue and good humour. _Fos._ No. But for the natural conformity of our constitutions. Because thou art hot and moist in the third degree, and I myself cold and dry in the first. _Town._ And so nature has coupled us like the elements. _Fos._ Thou hast nothing to do but to submit thy constitution to my regimen. _Town._ You shall find me obedient in all things. _Foss._ It is strange, yet certain, that the intellects of the infant depend upon the suppers of the parents. Diet must be prescrib'd. _Town._ So the wit of one's posterity is determin'd by the choice of one's cook. _Foss._ Right. You may observe how French cooks, with their high ragousts, have contaminated our plain English understandings. Our supper to night is extracted from the best authors. How delightful is this minute of tranquility! my soul is at ease. How happy shalt thou make me! thou shalt bring me the finest boy! [_A knocking at the door,_ No mortal shall enter these doors this day. [_knocking again._] Oh, it must be the news of poor lady Hippokekoana's death. Poor woman! such is the condition of life, some die, and some are born, and I shall now make some reparation for the mortality of my patients by the fecundity of my wife. My dear thou shalt bring me the finest boy! Enter footman. _Foot._ Sir, here's a seaman from Deptford must needs speak with you.