Wherein you so excel. But may I ask,
Without offence, wherefore my queen would scold?
Queen. Wherefore? Oh! blood and thunder! han't you heard
(What ev'ry corner of the court resounds)
That little Thumb will be a great man made?
Griz. I heard it, I confess—for who, alas!
Can[106] always stop his ears?—But would my teeth,
By grinding knives, had first been set on edge!
Queen. Would I had heard, at the still noon of night,
The hallalloo of fire in every street!