[Footnote 1: This method of surprizing an audience, by raising their expectation to the highest pitch, and then baulking it, hath been practised with great success by most of our tragical authors] _Nood_. I swear by lovely Huncamunca's charms. _Thumb_. Then know--[1] my grandmamma hath often said, Tom Thumb, beware of marriage. [Footnote: Almeyda, in Sebastian, is in the same distress: Sometimes methinks I hear the groan of ghosts, This hollow sounds and lamentable screams; Then, like a dying echo from afar, My mother's voice that cries, Wed not, Almeyda; Forewarn'd, Almeyda, marriage is thy crime. ] _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 [1] Blushing to see us in our bed together. [Footnote: "As very well he may, if he hath any modesty in him," says Mr D--s. The author of Busiris is extremely zealous to prevent the sun's blushing at any indecent object; and therefore on all such occasions he addresses himself to the sun, and desires him to keep out of the way. Rise never more, O sun! let night prevail, Eternal darkness close the world's wide scene.--_Busiris_. Sun, hide thy face, and put the world in mourning.--_Ibid_. Mr Banks makes the sun perform the office of Hymen, and therefore not likely to be disgusted at such a sight: The sun sets forth like a gay brideman with you. --_Mary Queen of Scots_. ] _Nood_. Oh, sir! this purpose of your soul pursue. _Bail_. Oh! sir! I have an action against you. _Nood_. At whose suit is it? _Bail_. At your taylor's, sir. Your taylor put this warrant in my hands, And I arrest you, sir, at his commands. _Thumb_. Ha! dogs! Arrest my friend before my face! Think you Tom Thumb will suffer this disgrace? But let vain cowards threaten by their word, Tom Thumb shall shew his anger by his sword. [_Kills_ Bailiff _and_ Follower. _Bail_. Oh, I am slain! _Fol_. I am murdered also, And to the shades, the dismal shades below, My bailiff's faithful follower I go. _Nood_. [1]Go then to hell, like rascals as you are, And give our service to the bailiffs there. [Footnote 1: Nourmahal sends the same message to heaven; For I would have you, when you upwards move, Speak kindly of us to our friends above.--_Aurengzebe_ We find another to hell, in the Persian Princess: Villain, get thee down To hell, and tell them that the fray's begun. ]