Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding

by Henry Fielding

  Smiles not allow’d to beasts from reason move.

  — State of Innocence.

  ]

  Queen. Oh, no! prevent the match, but hurt him not; For, though I would not have him have my daughter, Yet can we kill the man that kill’d the giants?

  Griz. I tell you, madam, it was all a trick;

  He made the giants first, and then he kill’d them;

  As fox-hunters bring foxes to the wood,

  And then with hounds they drive them out again.

  Queen. How! have you seen no giants? Are there not Now, in the yard, ten thousand proper giants?

  Griz. Indeed I cannot positively tell, But firmly do believe there is not one.

  [Footnote 1: These lines are written in the same key with those in the

  Earl of Essex:

  Why, say’st thou so? I love thee well, indeed

  I do, and thou shalt find by this ‘tis true.

  Or with this in Cyrus:

  The most heroick mind that ever was.

  And with above half of the modern tragedies. ]

  Queen. Hence! from my sight! thou traitor, hie away;

  By all my stars I thou enviest Tom Thumb.

  Go, sirrah! go, hie away! hie! —— thou art

  A setting dog: be gone.

  [Footnote 1: Aristotle, in that excellent work of his which is very justly stiled his masterpiece, earnestly recommends using the terms of art, however coarse or even indecent they may be. Mr Tate is of the same opinion.

  Bru. Do not, like young hawks, fetch a course about. Your game flies fair.

  Fra. Do not fear it. He answers you in your own hawking phrase. — Injured Love.

  I think these two great authorities are sufficient to justify Dollallolla in the use of the phrase, “Hie away, hie!” when in the same line she says she is speaking to a setting-dog. ]

  Griz. Madam, I go.

  Tom Thumb shall feel the vengeance you have raised.

  So, when two dogs are fighting in the streets,

  With a third dog one of the two dogs meets,

  With angry teeth he bites him to the bone,

  And this dog smarts for what that dog has done.

  SCENE VI.

  Queen (sola). And whither shall I go? — Alack a day!

  I love Tom Thumb — but must not tell him so;

  For what’s a woman when her virtue’s gone?

  A coat without its lace; wig out of buckle;

  A stocking with a hole in’t — I can’t live

  Without my virtue, or without Tom Thumb.

  Then let me weigh them in two equal scales;

  In this scale put my virtue, that Tom Thumb.

  Alas! Tom Thumb is heavier than my virtue.

  But hold! — perhaps I may be left a widow:

  This match prevented, then Tom Thumb is mine;

  In that dear hope I will forget my pain.

  So, when some wench to Tothill Bridewell’s sent,

  With beating hemp and flogging she’s content;

  She hopes in time to ease her present pain,

  At length is free, and walks the streets again.

  [Footnote 1: We meet with such another pair of scales in Dryden’s King

  Arthur:

  Arthur and Oswald, and their different fates,

  Are weighing now within the scales of heaven.

  Also in Sebastian:

  This hour my lot is weighing in the scales. ]

  ACT II.

  SCENE I. — The street. Bailiff, Follower.

  [Footnote: Mr Rowe is generally imagined to have taken some hints from this scene in his character of Bajazet; but as he, of all the tragick writers, bears the least resemblance to our author in his diction, I am unwilling to imagine he would condescend to copy him in this particular.]

  Bail. Come on, my trusty follower, come on;

  This day discharge thy duty, and at night

  A double mug of beer, and beer shall glad thee.

  Stand here by me, this way must Noodle pass.

  Fol. No more, no more, oh Bailiff! every word

  Inspires my soul with virtue. Oh! I long

  To meet the enemy in the street — and nab him:

  To lay arresting hands upon his back,

  And drag him trembling to the spunging-house.

  Bail. There when I have him, I will spunge upon him.

  Oh! glorious thought! by the sun, moon, and stars,

  I will enjoy it, though it be in thought!

  Yes, yes, my follower, I will enjoy it.

  Fol. Enjoy it then some other time, for now Our prey approaches.

  Bail. Let us retire.

  SCENE II. — TOM THUMB, NOODLE, Bailiff, Follower.

  Thumb. Trust me, my Noodle, I am wondrous sick;

  For, though I love the gentle Huncamunca,

  Yet at the thought of marriage I grow pale:

  For, oh! — but swear thou’lt keep it ever secret,

  I will unfold a tale will make thee stare.

  [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 — 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 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. 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 yo
u 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.

  ]

  Thumb. Thus perish all the bailiffs in the land, Till debtors at noon-day shall walk the streets, And no one fear a bailiff or his writ.

  SCENE III. —— The Princess Huncamunca’s Apartment. Huncamunca, Cleora, Mustacha.

  Hunc. Give me some music — see that it be sad.

  [Footnote 1: Anthony gave the same command in the same words.]

  CLEORA sings.

  Cupid, ease a love-sick maid,

  Bring thy quiver to her aid;

  With equal ardour wound the swain,

  Beauty should never sigh in vain.

  Let him feel the pleasing smart,

  Drive the arrow through his heart:

  When one you wound, you then destroy;

  When both you kill, you kill with joy.

  Hunc. O Tom Thumb! Tom Thumb! wherefore art thou Tom Thumb?

  Why hadst thou not been born of royal race?

  Why had not mighty Bantam been thy father?

  Or else the king of Brentford, Old or New?

  [Footnote 1: Oh! Marius, Marius, wherefore art thou Marius? — Olway’s Marius. ]

  Must. I am surprised that your highness can give yourself a moment’s uneasiness about that little insignificant fellow, Tom Thumb the Great — one properer for a plaything than a husband. Were he my husband his horns should be as long as his body. If you had fallen in love with a grenadier, I should not have wondered at it. If you had fallen in love with something; but to fall in love with nothing!

  [Footnote 1: Nothing is more common than these seeming contradictions; such as,

  Haughty weakness. — Victim

  Great small world. — Noah’s Flood

  ]

  Hunc. Cease, my Mustacha, on thy duty cease.

  The zephyr, when in flowery vales it plays,

  Is not so soft, so sweet as Thummy’s breath.

  The dove is not so gentle to its mate.

  Must. The dove is every bit as proper for a husband. — Alas! Madam, there’s not a beau about the court looks so little like a man. He is a perfect butterfly, a thing without substance, and almost without shadow too.

  Hunc. This rudeness is unseasonable: desist;

  Or I shall think this railing comes from love.

  Tom Thumb’s a creature of that charming form,

  That no one can abuse, unless they love him.

  Must. Madam, the king.

  SCENE IV.-KING, HUNCAMUNCA.

  King. Let all but Huncamunca leave the room.

  [Exeunt CLEORA and MUSTACHA.

  Daughter, I have observed of late some grief.

  Unusual in your countenance: your eyes!

  That, like two open windows, used to shew

  The lovely beauty of the rooms within,

  Have now two blinds before them. What is the cause?

  Say, have you not enough of meat and drink?

  We’ve given strict orders not to have you stinted.

  [Footnote 1: Lee hath improved this metaphor:

  Dost thou not view joy peeping from my eyes,

  The casements open’d wide to gaze on thee?

  So Rome’s glad citizens to windows rise,

  When they some young triumpher fain would see.

  — Gloriana.

  ]

  Hunc. Alas! my lord, I value not myself That once I eat two fowls and half a pig; Small is that praise! but oh! a maid may want What she can neither eat nor drink.

  [Footnote 1: Almahide hath the same contempt for these appetites:

  To eat and drink can no perfection be.

  — Conquest of Granada.

  The earl of Essex is of a different opinion, and seems to place the chief happiness of a general therein:

  Were but commanders half so well rewarded,

  Then they might eat. — Banks’s Earl of Essex.

  But, if we may believe one who knows more than either, the devil himself, we shall find eating to be an affair of more moment than is generally imagined:

  Gods are immortal only by their food.

  — Lucifer; in the State of Innocence.

  ]

  King. What’s that?

  Hunc. O spare my blushes; but I mean a husband.

  [Footnote 1: “This expression is enough of itself,” says Mr D., “utterly to destroy the character of Huncamunca!” Yet we find a woman of no abandoned character in Dryden adventuring farther, and thus excusing herself:

  To speak our wishes first, forbid it pride,

  Forbid it modesty; true, they forbid it,

  But Nature does not. When we are athirst,

  Or hungry, will imperious Nature stay,

  Nor eat, nor drink, before ‘tis bid fall on? — Cleomenes.

  Cassandra speaks before she is asked: Huncamunca afterwards.

  Cassandra speaks her wishes to her lover: Huncamunca only to her

  father.

  ]

  King. If that be all, I have provided one,

  A husband great in arms, whose warlike sword

  Streams with the yellow blood of slaughter’d giants,

  Whose name in Terra Incognita is known,

  Whose valour, wisdom, virtue make a noise

  Great as the kettle-drums of twenty armies.

  Hunc. Whom does my royal father mean?

  King. Tom Thumb.

  Hunc. Is it possible?

  King. Ha! the window-blinds are gone; A country-dance of joy is in your face. Your eyes spit fire, your cheeks grow red as beef.

  [Footnote 1:

  Her eyes resistless magick bear;

  Angels, I see, and gods, are dancing there

  — Lee’s Sophonisba.

  ]

  Hunc. O, there’s a magick-musick in that sound,

  Enough to turn me into beef indeed!

  Yes, I will own, since licensed by your word,

  I’ll own Tom Thumb the cause of all my grief.

  For him I’ve sigh’d, I’ve wept, I’ve gnaw’d my sheets.

  King. Oh! thou shalt gnaw thy tender sheets no more. A husband thou shalt have to mumble now.

  Hunc. Oh! happy sound! henceforth let no one tell That Huncamunca shall lead apes in hell. Oh! I am overjoy’d!

  King. I see thou art. Joy lightens in thy eyes, and thunders from thy brows; Transports, like lightning, dart along thy soul, As small-shot through a hedge.

  [Footnote 1: Mr Dennis, in that excellent tragedy called Liberty

  Asserted, which is thought to have given so great a stroke to the late

  French king, hath frequent imitations of this beautiful speech of king

  Arthur:

  Conquest light’ning in his eyes, and thund’ring in his arm,

  Joy lighten’d in her eyes.

  Joys like lightning dart along my soul.

  ]

  Hunc. Oh! say not small.

  King. This happy news shall on our tongue ride post,

  Ourself we bear the happy news to Thumb.

  Yet think not, daughter, that your powerful charms

  Must still detain the hero from his arms;

  Various his duty, various his delight;

  Now in his turn to kiss, and now to fight,

  And now to kiss again. So, mighty Jove,

  When with excessive thund’ring tired above,

  Comes down to earth, and takes a bit — and then

  Flies to his trade of thund’ring back again.

  [Footnote 1:

  Jove, with excessive thund’ring tired above,

  Comes down for ease, enjoys a nymph, and then

  Mounts dreadful, and to thund’ring goes again. — Gloriana.

  ]

  SCENE V. — GRIZZLE, HUNCAMUNCA.

  Griz. Oh! Huncamunca, Huncamunca, oh!

  Thy
pouting breasts, like kettle-drums of brass,

  Beat everlasting loud alarms of joy;

  As bright as brass they are, and oh, as hard.

  Oh! Huncamunca, Huncamunca, oh!

  [Footnote 1: This beautiful line, which ought, says Mr W —— , to be written in gold, is imitated in the New Sophonisba:

  Oh! Sophonisba; Sophonisba, oh!

  Oh! Narva; Narva, oh!

  The author of a song called Duke upon Duke hath improved it:

  Alas! O Nick! O Nick, alas!

  Where, by the help of a little false spelling, you have two meanings in the repeated words. ]

  Hunc. Ha! dost thou know me, princess as I am, That thus of me you dare to make your game?

  [Footnote 1: Edith, in the Bloody Brother, speaks to her lover in the same familiar language:

  Your grace is full of game.

  ]

  Griz. Oh! Huncamunca, well I know that you