Hump. Now father, uncle, before we go any further, I think 'tis necessary we know who and who's together; then I give either of you two hours to guess which is my wife—and 'tis not my cousin; so far I'll tell you.
Sir Har. How! What do you say? But oh! you mean she is not your cousin now, she's nearer akin; that's well enough. Well said, Numps; ha! ha! ha!
Hump. No, I don't mean so; I tell you I don't mean so—My wife hides her face under her hat. [All looking at Fainlove.
Tip. What does the puppy mean? His wife under a hat!
Hump. Ay, ay, that's she, that's she—A good jest, 'faith!
Sir Har. Hark ye, Numps, what dost mean, child? Is that a woman, and are you really married to her?
Hump. I am sure of both.
Sir Har. Are you so, sirrah? then, sirrah, this is your wedding dinner, sirrah—Do you see, sirrah, here's roast meat.
Hump. Oh, oh! what, beat a married man! Hold him, Mr. Clerimont, Brother Pounce, Mr. Wife; nobody stand by a young married man! [Runs behind Fainlove.
Sir Har. Did not the dog say Brother Pounce? what, is this Mrs. Ragout? this Madam Clerimont? Who the devil are you all? but especially who the devil are you two? [Beats Humphry and Fainlove off the Stage, following.