_Hunc_. Forbid it, all ye stars, for you're so small.
That were you lost, you'd find yourself no more.
So the unhappy sempstress once, they say,
Her needle in a pottle, lost, of hay;
In vain she look'd, and look'd, and made her moan,
For ah, the needle was forever gone.

_Par_. Long may they live, and love, and propagate,
Till the whole land be peopled with Tom Thumbs!
[1] So, when the Cheshire cheese a maggot breeds,
Another and another still succeeds:
By thousands and ten thousands they increase,
Till one continued maggot fills the rotten cheese.

[Footnote 1: Mr F---- imagines this parson to have been a Welsh one
from his simile.]



SCENE X.--NOODLE, _and then_ GRIZZLE.

_Nood_. [1] Sure, Nature means to break her solid chain,
Or else unfix the world, and in a rage
To hurl it from its axletree and hinges;
All things are so confused, the king's in love,
The queen is drunk, the princess married is.

[Footnote 1: Our author hath been plundered here, according to custom

Great nature, break thy chain that links together