The god was attended by a splendid court:  his secretary of state, whose head was stuck full of the quills of the sea bird of these latitudes; his surgeon, with his lancet, pill-box, and his smelling-bottle; his barber, with a razor, whose blade was two feet long, cut off an iron hoop; and the barber’s mate, who carried a small tub, as a shaving-box; the materials within I could not analyze, but my nose convinced me that no part of them came from Smith’s, in Bond-street.

Amphitrite followed, on a similar carriage, drawn by six white men, whose costume was like the others.  This goddess was personified by an athletic, ugly man, marked with the small-pox, dressed as a female, with a woman’s night-cap on his head, ornamented with sprigs of sea-weed; she had a harpoon in her hand, on which was fixed an albicore; and in her lap lay one of the boys of the ship, dressed as a baby, with long clothes and a cap:  he held in his hand a marlinspike, which was suspended round his neck with a rope yarn:  this was to assist him in cutting his teeth, as the children on shore use a coral.  His nurse attended him with a bucket full of burgoo, or hasty pudding, with which she occasionally fed him out of the cook’s iron ladle.  Two or three stout men were habited as sea nymphs, to attend on the goddess:  they carried a looking-glass, some curry-combs, a birch-broom, and a pot of red paint, by way of rouge.

As soon as the procession appeared on the forecastle, the captain, attended by his steward, bearing a tray with a bottle of wine and some glasses, came out of his cabin, and the cars of the marine deities were drawn up on the quarter-deck.  Neptune lowered his trident, and presented the dolphin to the captain, as Amphitrite did her albicore, in token of submission and homage to the representative of the King of Great Britain.

“I have come,” said the god, “to welcome you into my dominions, and to present my wife and child.”  The captain bowed.  “Allow me to ask after my brother and liege sovereign, the good old King George.”

“He is not so well,” said the captain, “as I and all his subjects could wish.”

“More’s the pity,” replied Neptune; “and how is the Prince of Wales?”

“The Prince is well,” said the captain, “and now governs as regent in the name of his royal father.”

“And how does he get on with his wife?” said the inquisitive god.

“Bad enough,” said the captain; “they agree together like a whale and a thrasher.”

“Ah!  I thought so,” said the god of the sea.  “His royal highness should take a leaf out of my book:  never allow it to be doubtful who is commanding officer.”

“And pray what might your majesty’s specific be, to cure a bad wife?” said the captain.

“Three feet of the cross-jack brace every morning before breakfast, for a quarter of an hour, and half an hour on a Sunday.”

“But why more on a Sunday than any other day?” said the captain.