_Mons._ Nay, I am sure he'll be ashamed of it, I shall make him look so sillily, _tête non!_--I long to find him out.--Adieu, adieu, _la cousine_. _Hip._ Shall you be sure to find him? _Mons. Indubitablement_, I'll search the town over, but I'll find him: ha! ha! ha!--[_Exit_ MONSIEUR, _and returns._]--But I'm afraid, _cousine_, if I should tell him you are to be my wife to-morrow, he would not come: now, I am for having him come for the jest's sake, _ventre!_-- _Hip._ So am I, cousin, for having him come too for the jest's sake. _Mons._ Well, well, leave it to me:--ha! ha! ha! _Enter_ Mrs. CAUTION. _Mrs. Caut._ What's all this giggling here? _Mons._ Hey! do you tinke we'll tell you? no, fait, I warrant you, _tête non!_--ha! ha! ha!-- _Hip._ My cousin is overjoyed, I suppose, that my father is to come to-night. _Mrs. Caut._ I am afraid he will not come to-night:--but you'll stay and see, nephew? _Mons. Non, non_: I am to sup at t'other end of the town to-night--La, la, la--Ra, ra, ra--[_Exit, singing._ _Mrs. Caut._ I wish the French levity of this young man may agree with your father's Spanish gravity. _Hip._ Just as your crabbed old age and my youth agree. _Mrs. Caut._ Well, malapert, I know you hate me, because I have been the guardian of your reputation: but your husband may thank me one day. _Hip._ If he be not a fool, he would rather be obliged to me for my virtue than to you, since, at long run, he must, whether he will or no. _Mrs. Caut._ So, so! _Hip._ Nay, now I think on't, I'd have you to know, the poor man, whosoe'er he is, will have little cause to thank you. _Mrs. Caut._ No!-- _Hip._ No; for I never lived so wicked a life as I have done this twelvemonth, since I have not seen a man. _Mrs. Caut._ How, how! if you have not seen a man, how could you be wicked? how could you do any ill? _Hip._ No, I have done no ill; but I have paid it with thinking. _Mrs. Caut._ O that's no hurt! to think, is no hurt:--ancient, grave, and godly, cannot help thoughts. _Hip._ I warrant, you have had 'em yourself, aunt? _Mrs. Caut._ Yes, yes, when I cannot sleep. _Hip._ Ha! ha!--I believe it. But know, I have had those thoughts sleeping and waking; for I have dreamt of a man. _Mrs. Caut._ No matter, no matter, so that it was but a dream: I have dreamt myself. For you must know, widows are mightily given to dream; insomuch that a dream is waggishly called "the Widow's Comfort." _Hip._ But I did not only dream--[_Sighs._ _Mrs. Caut._ How, how! did you more than dream? speak, young harlotry! confess; did you more than dream? How could you do more than dream in this house? speak, confess! _Hip._ Well, I will then. Indeed, aunt, I did not only dream, but I was pleased with my dream when I awaked. _Mrs. Caut._ Oh, is that all?--Nay, if a dream only will please you, you are a modest young woman still: but have a care of a vision.