_Nood_. I mean, my liege, [1] Only to grace my tale with decent horror. Whilst from my garret, twice two stories high, I look'd abroad into the streets below, I saw Tom Thumb attended by the mob; Twice twenty shoe-boys, twice two dozen links, Chairmen and porters, hackney-coachmen, whores; Aloft he bore the grizly head of Grizzle; When of a sudden through the streets there came A cow, of larger than the usual size, And in a moment--guess, oh! guess the rest!-- And in a moment swallow'd up Tom Thumb. [Footnote 1: I was but teaching him to grace his tale With decent horror. --_Cleomenes_. ] _King_. Shut up again the prisons, bid my treasurer Not give three farthings out-hang all the culprits, Guilty or not--no matter.--Ravish virgins: Go bid the schoolmasters whip all their boys! Let lawyers, parsons, and physicians loose, To rob, impose on, and to kill the world. _Nood_. Her majesty the queen is in a swoon. _Queen_. Not so much in a swoon but I have still Strength to reward the messenger of ill news. [_Kills_ NOODLE. _Nood_. O! I am slain. _Cle_. My lover's kill'd, I will revenge him so. [_Kills the_ QUEEN. _Hunc_. My mamma kill'd! vile murderess, beware. [_Kills_ CLEORA. _Dood_. This for an old grudge to thy heart. [_Kills_ HUNCAMUNCA. _Must_. And this I drive to thine, O Doodle! for a new one. [_Kills_ DOODLE. _King_. Ha! murderess vile, take that. [_Kills_ MUST. [1] And take thou this. [_Kills himself, and falls_. So when the child, whom nurse from danger guards, Sends Jack for mustard with a pack of cards, Kings, queens, and knaves, throw one another down, Till the whole pack lies scatter'd and o'erthrown; So all our pack upon the floor is cast, And all I boast is--that I fall the last. [_Dies_. [Footnote 1: We may say with Dryden, Death did at length so many slain forget, And left the tale, and took them by the great. I know of no tragedy which comes nearer to this charming and bloody catastrophe than Cleomenes, where the curtain covers five principal characters dead on the stage. These lines too-- I ask no questions then, of who kill'd who? The bodies tell the story as they lie-- seem to have belonged more properly to this scene of our author; nor can I help imagining they were originally his, The Rival Ladies, too, seem beholden to this scene: We're now a chain of lovers link'd in death; Julia goes first, Gonsalvo hangs on her, And Angelina hangs upon Gonsalvo, As I on Angelina.