_Hunc_. Let me see nearer what this beauty is That captivates the heart of men by scores. [_Holds a candle to her face_. Oh! Heaven, thou art as ugly as the devil. _Glum_. You'd give the best of shoes within your shop To be but half so handsome. _Hunc_. Since you come [1]To that, I'll put my beauty to the test: Tom Thumb, I'm yours, if you with me will go. [Footnote 1: Mr L---- takes occasion in this place to commend the great care of our author to preserve the metre of blank verse, in which Shakspeare, Jonson, and Fletcher, were so notoriously negligent; and the moderns, in imitation of our author, so laudably observant: Then does Your majesty believe that he can be A traitor?--_Earl of Essex_. Every page of Sophonisba gives us instances of this excellence. ] _Glum_. Oh! stay, Tom Thumb, and you alone shall fill That bed where twenty giants used to lie. _Thumb_. In the balcony that o'erhangs the stage, I've seen a whore two 'prentices engage; One half-a-crown does in his fingers hold, The other shews a little piece of gold; She the half-guinea wisely does purloin, And leaves the larger and the baser coin. _Glum_. Left, scorn'd, and loathed for such a chit as this; [1] I feel the storm that's rising in my mind, Tempests and whirlwinds rise, and roll, and roar. I'm all within a hurricane, as if [2] The world's four winds were pent within my carcase. [3] Confusion, horror, murder, guts, and death! [Footnote 1: Love mounts and rolls about my stormy mind. --_Aurengzebe_. Tempests and whirlwinds thro' my bosom move. --_Cleomenes_. ] [Footnote 2: With such a furious tempest on his brow, As if the world's four winds were pent within His blustering carcase.--_Anna Bullen_. ] [Footnote 3: Verba Tragica.] SCENE VIII.--KING, GLUMDALCA. _King_. [1] Sure never was so sad a king as I! [2] My life is worn as ragged as a coat A beggar wears; a prince should put it off. [3] To love a captive and a giantess! Oh love! oh love! how great a king art thou! My tongue's thy trumpet, and thou trumpetest, Unknown to me, within me. [4] Oh, Glumdalca! Heaven thee designed a giantess to make, But an angelick soul was shuffled in. [5] I am a multitude of walking griefs, And only on her lips the balm is found [6] To spread a plaster that might cure them all. [Footnote 1: This speech has been terribly mauled by the poet.] [Footnote 2: ----My life is worn to rags, Not worth a prince's wearing.--_Love Triumphant_. ] [Footnote 3: Must I beg the pity of my slave? Must a king beg? But love's a greater king, A tyrant, nay, a devil, that possesses me. He tunes the organ of my voice and speaks, Unknown to me, within me.--_Sebastian_. ] [Footnote 4: When thou wert form'd, heaven did a man begin; But a brute soul by chance was shuffled in.--_Aurengzebe_. ]