And I serue the Fairy Queene, to dew her orbs vpon the green.The Cowslips tall, her pensioners bee, In their gold coats, spots you see, Those be Rubies, Fairie fauors,
In those freckles, liue their sauors,
I must go seeke some dew drops heere,
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And hang a pearle in euery cowslips eare. Farewell thou Lob of spirits, Ile be gon,
Our Queene and all her Elues come heere anon
Rob. The King doth keepe his Reuels here to night,
Take heed the Queene come not within his sight,
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath, Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A louely boy stolne from an Indian King, She neuer had so sweet a changeling,
And iealous Oberon would haue the childe Knight of his traine, to trace the Forrests wilde. But she (perforce) with-holds the loued boy,
Crownes him with flowers, and makes him all her ioy.
And now they neuer meete in groue, or greene, By fountaine cleere, or spangled star-light sheene, But they do square, that all their Elues for feare Creepe into Acorne cups and hide them there
Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrew'd and knauish spirit
Cal'd Robin Goodfellow. Are you not hee, That frights the maidens of the Villagree,
Skim milke, and sometimes labour in the querne, And bootlesse make the breathlesse huswife cherne, And sometime make the drinke to beare no barme, Misleade night-wanderers, laughing at their harme, Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Pucke, You do their worke, and they shall haue good lucke. Are not you he?
Rob. Thou speak'st aright;
I am that merrie wanderer of the night: I iest to Oberon, and make him smile, When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, Neighing in likenesse of a silly foale,
And sometime lurke I in a Gossips bole, In very likenesse of a roasted crab:
And when she drinkes, against her lips I bob, And on her withered dewlop poure the Ale. The wisest Aunt telling the saddest tale, Sometime for three-foot stoole, mistaketh me, Then slip I from her bum, downe topples she, And tailour cries, and fals into a coffe.
And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe, And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and sweare,
A merrier houre was neuer wasted there. But roome Fairy, heere comes Oberon
Fair. And heere my Mistris: Would that he were gone.
Enter the King of Fairies at one doore with his traine, and the
Queene at
another with hers.
Ob. Ill met by Moonelight. Proud Tytania
Qu. What, iealous Oberon? Fairy skip hence.
I haue forsworne his bed and companie
Ob. Tarrie rash Wanton; am not I thy Lord? Qu. Then I must be thy Lady: but I know When thou wast stolne away from Fairy Land, And in the shape of Corin, sate all day,
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Playing on pipes of Corne, and versing loue To amorous Phillida. Why art thou heere Come from the farthest steepe of India?
But that forsooth the bouncing Amazon
Your buskin'd Mistresse, and your Warrior loue, To Theseus must be Wedded; and you come,
To giue their bed ioy and prosperitie
Ob. How canst thou thus for shame Tytania. Glance at my credite, with Hippolita?
Knowing I know thy loue to Theseus?
Didst thou not leade him through the glimmering night
From Peregenia, whom he rauished?
And make him with faire Eagles breake his faith
With Ariadne, and Antiopa?
Que. These are the forgeries of iealousie, And neuer since the middle Summers spring Met we on hil, in dale, forrest, or mead,
By paued fountaine, or by rushie brooke, Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling Winde,
But with thy braules thou hast disturb'd our sport. Therefore the Windes, piping to vs in vaine,
As in reuenge, haue suck'd vp from the sea Contagious fogges: Which falling in the Land, Hath euerie petty Riuer made so proud,
That they haue ouer-borne their Continents.
The Oxe hath therefore stretch'd his yoake in vaine, The Ploughman lost his sweat, and the greene Corne Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard:
The fold stands empty in the drowned field, And Crowes are fatted with the murrion flocke, The nine mens Morris is fild vp with mud,
And the queint Mazes in the wanton greene, For lacke of tread are vndistinguishable.
The humane mortals want their winter heere, No night is now with hymne or caroll blest; Therefore the Moone (the gouernesse of floods) Pale in her anger, washes all the aire;
That Rheumaticke diseases doe abound. And through this distemperature, we see The seasons alter; hoared headed Frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson Rose,
And on old Hyems chinne and Icie crowne, An odorous Chaplet of sweet Sommer buds Is as in mockry set. The Spring, the Sommer, The childing Autumne, angry Winter change Their wonted Liueries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knowes not which is which; And this same progeny of euills,
Comes from our debate, from our dissention, We are their parents and originall
Ober. Do you amend it then, it lies in you, Why should Titania crosse her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy, To be my Henchman
Qu. Set your heart at rest,
The Fairy land buyes not the childe of me, His mother was a Votresse of my Order,
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And in the spiced Indian aire, by night
Full often hath she gossipt by my side,
And sat with me on Neptunes yellow sands, Marking th' embarked traders on the flood, When we haue laught to see the sailes conceiue, And grow big bellied with the wanton winde: Which she with pretty and with swimming gate,
Following (her wombe then rich with my yong squire)
Would imitate, and saile vpon the Land,
To fetch me trifles, and returne againe,
