The Works of Henry Fielding Part 21

From all which it appears that there are two selfs; and therefore Tom Thumb's losing himself is no such solecism as it hath been represented by men rather ambitious of criticising than qualified to criticise.

_Hunc_. Forbid it, all ye stars, for you're so small.

That were you lost, you'd find yourself no more.

So the unhappy sempstress once, they say, Her needle in a pottle, lost, of hay; In vain she look'd, and look'd, and made her moan, For ah, the needle was forever gone.

_Par_. Long may they live, and love, and propagate, Till the whole land be peopled with Tom Thumbs!

[1] So, when the Cheshire cheese a maggot breeds, Another and another still succeeds: By thousands and ten thousands they increase, Till one continued maggot fills the rotten cheese.

[Footnote 1: Mr F---- imagines this parson to have been a Welsh one from his simile.]

SCENE X.--NOODLE, _and then_ GRIZZLE.

_Nood_. [1] Sure, Nature means to break her solid chain, Or else unfix the world, and in a rage To hurl it from its axletree and hinges; All things are so confused, the king's in love, The queen is drunk, the princess married is.

[Footnote 1: Our author hath been plundered here, according to custom

Great nature, break thy chain that links together The fabrick of the world, and make a chaos Like that within my soul.--_Love Triumphant_.

----Startle Nature, unfix the globe, And hurl it from its axletree and hinges.

--_Albion Queens_.

The tott'ring earth seems sliding off its props.

_Griz_. Oh, Noodle! Hast thou Huncamunca seen?

_Nood_. I have seen a thousand sights this day, where none Are by the wonderful b.i.t.c.h herself outdone.

The king, the queen, and all the court, are sights.

_Griz_. [1] D--n your delay, you trifler! are you drunk, ha!

I will not hear one word but Huncamunca.

[Footnote 1: D--n your delay, ye torturers, proceed; I will not hear one word but Almahide.

--_Conquest of Granada_.

_Nood_. By this time she is married to Tom Thumb.

_Griz_. [1] My Huncamunca!

[Footnote 1: Mr Dryden hath imitated this in All for Love.]

_Nood_. Your Huncamunca, Tom Thumb's Huncamunca, every man's Huncamunca.

_Griz_. If this be true, all womankind are d.a.m.n'd.

_Nood_. If it be not, may I be so myself.

_Griz_. See where she comes! I'll not believe a word Against that face, upon whose [1] ample brow Sits innocence with majesty enthroned.

[Footnote 1: This Miltonic style abounds in the New Sophonisba:

--And on her ample brow Sat majesty.

GRIZZLE, HUNCAMUNCA.

_Griz_. Where has my Huncamunca been? See here.

The licence in my hand!

_Hunc_. Alas! Tom Thumb.

_Griz_. Why dost thou mention him?

_Hunc_. Ah, me! Tom Thumb.

_Griz_. What means my lovely Huncamunca?

_Hunc_. Hum!

_Griz_. Oh! speak.

_Hunc_. Hum!

_Griz_. Ha! your every word is hum: [1] You force me still to answer you, Tom Thumb.

Tom Thumb--I'm on the rack--I'm in a flame.

[2]Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb--you love the name; So pleasing is that sound, that were you dumb, You still would find a voice to cry Tom Thumb.

[Footnote 1: Your every answer still so ends in that, You force me still to answer you Morat. --_Aurengzebe_.

[Footnote 2: Morat, Morat, Morat! you love the name.--_Aurengzebe_.]

_Hunc_. Oh! be not hasty to proclaim my doom!

My ample heart for more than one has room: A maid like me Heaven form'd at least for two.

[1]I married him, and now I'll marry you.

[Footnote 1: "Here is a sentiment for the virtuous Huncamunca!" says Mr D----s. And yet, with the leave of this great man, the virtuous Panthea, in Cyrus, hath an heart every whit as ample:

For two I must confess are G.o.ds to me, Which is my Abradatus first, and thee.--_Cyrus the Great_.

Nor is the lady in Love Triumphant more reserved, though not so intelligible: