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;[112] 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.

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