_Queen_ [_sola._] And whither shall I go?--Alack a day! I love Tom Thumb--but must not tell him so; For what's a woman when her virtue's gone? A coat without its lace; wig out of buckle; A stocking with a hole in't--I can't live Without my virtue, or without Tom Thumb. Then let me weigh them in two equal scales;[112] In this scale put my virtue, that Tom Thumb. Alas! Tom Thumb is heavier than my virtue. But hold!--perhaps I may be left a widow: This match prevented, then Tom Thumb is mine: In that dear hope I will forget my pain. So, when some wench to Tothill Bridewell's sent, With beating hemp and flogging she's content; She hopes in time to ease her present pain, At length is free, and walks the streets again. * * * * * ACT II. SCENE I.--_The street._ BAILIFF, FOLLOWER. _Bail._ Come on, my trusty fellow, come on; This day discharge thy duty, and at night A double mug of beer, and beer shall glad thee. Stand here by me, this way must Noodle pass. _Fol._ No more, no more, O Bailiff! every word Inspires my soul with virtue. Oh! I long To meet the enemy in the street, and nab him: To lay arresting hands upon his back, And drag him trembling to the sponging-house. _Bail._ There when I have him, I will sponge upon him. Oh! glorious thought! by the sun, moon, and stars, I will enjoy it, though it be in thought! Yes, yes, my follower, I will enjoy it. _Fol._ Enjoy it then some other time, for now Our prey approaches. _Bail._ Let us retire. SCENE II. TOM THUMB, NOODLE, BAILIFF, FOLLOWER. _Thumb._ Trust me, my Noodle, I am wondrous sick;[113] For, though I love the gentle Huncamunca, Yet at the thought of marriage I grow pale: For, oh!--but swear thou'lt keep it ever secret,[114] I will unfold a tale will make thee stare. _Nood._ I swear by lovely Huncamunca's charms. _Thumb._ Then know--my grandmamma[115] hath often said. Tom Thumb, beware of marriage. _Nood._ Sir, I blush To think a warrior, great in arms as you, Should be affrighted by his grandmamma. Can an old woman's empty dreams deter The blooming hero from the virgin's arms? Think of the joy that will your soul alarm, When in her fond embraces clasp'd you lie, While on her panting breast, dissolved in bliss, You pour out all Tom Thumb in every kiss. _Thumb._ Oh! Noodle, thou hast fired my eager soul; Spite of my grandmother she shall be mine; I'll hug, caress, I'll eat her up with love: Whole days, and nights, and years shall be too short For our enjoyment; every sun shall rise Blushing to see us both alone together.[116] _Nood._ Oh, sir! this purpose of your soul pursue. _Bail._ Oh, sir! I have an action against you. _Nood._ At whose suit is it?