[Footnote 2: ——————A bride, Who twenty years lay loving by your side.—Banks. ]
[Footnote 3: For, borne upon a cloud, from high I'll fall, And rain down royal vengeance on you all.—Alb. Queens. ]
Food. [1]Her majesty the queen is in a passion.
[Footnote 1: An information very like this we have in the tragedy of Love, where, Cyrus having stormed in the most violent manner, Cyaxares observes very calmly,
Why, nephew Cyrus, you are moved.
]
King. [1] Be she, or be she not, I'll to the girl
And pave thy way, oh Thumb—Now by ourself,
We were indeed a pretty king of clouts
To truckle to her will—For when by force
Or art the wife her husband over-reaches,
Give him the petticoat, and her the breeches.
[Footnote 1: 'Tis in your choice. Love me, or love me not.—Conquest of Granada. ]
Thumb. [1] Whisper ye winds, that Huncamunca's mine!
Echoes repeat, that Huncamunca's mine!
The dreadful bus'ness of the war is o'er,
And beauty, heav'nly beauty! crowns my toils!
I've thrown the bloody garment now aside
And hymeneal sweets invite my bride.
So when some chimney-sweeper all the day
Hath through dark paths pursued the sooty way,
At night to wash his hands and face he flies,
And in his t'other shirt with his Brickdusta lies.
[Footnote 1: There is not one beauty in this charming speech but what hath been borrow'd by almost every tragick writer. ]