The Works of Henry Fielding Part 23

[Footnote 1: I'll pull thee backwards by thy shroud to light, Or else I'll squeeze thee, like a bladder, there, And make thee groan thyself away to air.

--_Conquest of Granada_.

s.n.a.t.c.h me, ye G.o.ds, this moment into nothing.

--_Cyrus the Great_.

[Footnote 2: So, art thou gone? Thou canst no conquest boast.

I thought what was the courage of a ghost.

--_Conquest of Granada_.

King Arthur seems to be as brave a fellow as Almanzor, who says most heroically,

In spite of ghosts I'll on.

_Ghost_. Were the Red Sea a sea of Hollands gin, The liquor (when alive) whose very smell I did detest--did loathe--yet, for the sake Of Thomas Thumb, I would be laid therein.

_King_. Ha! said you?

_Ghost_. Yes, my liege, I said Tom Thumb, Whose father's ghost I am--once not unknown To mighty Arthur. But, I see, 'tis true, The dearest friend, when dead, we all forget.

_King_. 'Tis he--it is the honest Gaffer Thumb.

Oh! let me press thee in my eager arms, Thou best of ghosts! thou something more than ghost!

_Ghost_. Would I were something more, that we again Might feel each other in the warm embrace.

But now I have th' advantage of my king, [1] For I feel thee, whilst thou dost not feel me.

[Footnote 1: The ghost of Lausaria, in Cyrus, is a plain copy of this, and is therefore worth reading:

Ah, Cyrus!

Thou may'st as well grasp water, or fleet air, As think of touching my immortal shade.

--_Cyrus the Great_.

_King_. But say, [1] thou dearest air, oh! say what dread, Important business sends thee back to earth?

[Footnote 1: Thou better part of heavenly air.

--_Conquest of Granada,_.

_Ghost_. Oh! then prepare to hear--which but to hear Is full enough to send thy spirit hence.

Thy subjects up in arms, by Grizzle led, Will, ere the rosy-finger'd morn shall ope The shutters of the sky, before the gate Of this thy royal palace, swarming spread.

[1] So have I seen the bees in cl.u.s.ters swarm, So have I seen the stars in frosty nights, So have I seen the sand in windy days, So have I seen the ghosts on Pluto's sh.o.r.e, So have I seen the flowers in spring arise, So have I seen the leaves in autumn fall, So have I seen the fruits in summer smile, So have I seen the snow in winter frown.

[Footnote 1: "A string of similes," says one, "proper to be hung up in the cabinet of a prince."]

_King_. D--n all thou hast seen!--dost thou, beneath the shape Of Gaffer Thumb, come hither to abuse me With similes, to keep me on the rack?

Hence--or, by all the torments of thy h.e.l.l, [1] I'll run thee through the body, though thou'st none.

[Footnote 1: This pa.s.sage hath been understood several different ways by the commentators. For my part, I find it difficult to understand it at all. Mr Dryden says--

I've heard something how two bodies meet, But how two souls join I know not.

So that, till the body of a spirit be better understood, it will be difficult to understand how it is possible to run him through it.

_Ghost_. Arthur, beware! I must this moment hence, Not frighted by your voice, but by the c.o.c.ks!

Arthur, beware, beware, beware, beware!

Strive to avert thy yet impending fate; For, if thou'rt kill'd to-day, To-morrow all thy care will come too late.

SCENE III.--KING (_solus_).

_King_. Oh! stay, and leave me not uncertain thus!

And, whilst thou tellest me what's like my fate, Oh! teach me how I may avert it too!

Curst be the man who first a simile made!

Curst ev'ry bard who writes!--So have I seen Those whose comparisons are just and true, And those who liken things not like at all.

The devil is happy that the whole creation Can furnish out no simile to his fortune.

SCENE IV.--KING, QUEEN.

_Queen_. What is the cause, my Arthur, that you steal Thus silently from Dollallolla's breast?

Why dost thou leave me in the [1] dark alone, When well thou know'st I am afraid of sprites?

[Footnote 1: Cydaria is of the same fearful temper with Dollallolla.

I never durst in darkness be alone.

--_Indian Emperor_.

_King_. Oh, Dollallolla! do not blame my love!

I hop'd the fumes of last night's punch had laid Thy lovely eyelids fast.--But, oh! I find There is no power in drams to quiet wives; Each morn, as the returning sun, they wake, And s.h.i.+ne upon their husbands.

_Queen_. Think, oh think!

What a surprise it must be to the sun, Rising, to find the vanish'd world away.

What less can be the wretched wife's surprise When, stretching out her arms to fold thee fast, She found her useless bolster in her arms.

[1] Think, think, on that.--Oh! think, think well on that.

I do remember also to have read [2] In Dryden's Ovid's Metamorphoses, That Jove in form inanimate did lie With beauteous Danae: and, trust me, love, [3] I fear'd the bolster might have been a Jove.

[Footnote 1: Think well of this, think that, think every way.--_Sophon_.]