A Fairy Tale in Two Acts Taken from Shakespeare | Page 3

anon.
Puck. The King doth keep his revels here to-night,
Take heed the
Queen come not within his sight;
For they do square, that all their
Elves for fear
Creep into acorn-cups, and hide them there.
1st Fai. But why is Oberon so fell and wrath?
Puck. Because that she, as her attendant hath
A lovely boy stol'n from

an Indian King;
And she perforce with-holds the changling,
Tho'
jealous Oberon wou'd have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the
forests wild.
1st Fai. Or I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are
that shrewd and knavish Sprite
Call'd Robin-good-fellow.
Puck. Thou speak'st aright;
I am that merry wand'rer of the night:
I
jest to Oberon, and make him smile,
Oft lurk in gossip's bowl, and
her beguile
In very likeness of a roasted crab;
And when she drinks,
against her lips I bob,
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale;
The
wisest aunt telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool
mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
And
rails or cries, and falls into a cough,
And then the whole choir hold
their hips and loffe.
AIR.
1st Fai. Yes, yes, I know you, you are he
That frighten all the villagree;
Skim milk, and labour in the quern,

And bootless make the huswife churn;
Or make the drink to bear no
barm,
Laughing at their loss and harm,
But call you Robin, and
sweet Puck,
You do their work, and bring good luck.
Yes, you are that unlucky Sprite!
Like Will-a-whisp, a wandring light,

Through ditch, thro' bog, who lead astray
Benighted swains, who
lose their way;
You pinch the slattern black and blue,
You silver
drop in huswife's shoe;
For call you Robin and sweet Puck,
You do
their work, and bring good luck.
Puck. But make room, Fairy, here comes Oberon.
1st Fai. And here my mistress: Would that he were gone!
Enter Oberon King of Fairies at one door, with his train, and the Queen

at another with hers.
Ob. Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania!
Queen. What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence,
I have forsworn his
bed and Company.
Ob. Tarry, rash wanton! Am not I thy Lord?
Queen. Then I must be thy Lady: Why art thou here?
Come from the
farthest steep of India?
But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,

Your buskin'd mistress, and your warrior love,
To Theseus must be
wedded; and you come
To give their bed joy and prosperity.
Ob. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania,
Glance at my credit
with Hippolita,
Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
Didst thou
not lead him through the glimmering night
From Perigune, whom he
ravished,
And make him, with fair Egle, break his faith
With
Ariadne and Antiopa?
Queen. These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never since that
middle summer's spring
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
To
dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou
hast disturb'd our sport.
The spring, the summer,
The chiding
autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries; and the amazed
world
By their increase now knows not which is which;
And this
same progeny of evil comes
From our debate, from our dissention,

We are their parents and original.
Ob. Do you amend it then, it lies in you.
Why should Titania cross
her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changling boy
To be my
henchman.
Queen. Set your heart at rest,
The Fairy-land buys not the child of me.

His mother was a votress of my order,
And in the spiced Indian air

by night
Full often she hath gossipt by my side;
And sat with me on
Neptune's yellow sands.
Marking th' embarked traders of the flood,

When we have laught to see the sails conceive,
And grow big-bellied
with the wanton wind;
Which she, with pretty and with swimming
gait,
Would imitate, and sail upon the land,
To fetch me trifles, and
return again
As from a voyage rich with merchandize;
But she
being mortal of that boy did die,
And for her sake I do rear up her boy,

And for her sake I will not part with him.
Ob. How long within this wood intend you stay?
Queen. Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day.
If you will
patiently dance in our round,
And see our moon-light revels, go with
us;
If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.
Ob. Give me that boy, and I'll go with thee.
Queen. Not for thy Fairy kingdom.
AIR. DUET.
Queen. Away, away,
I will not stay,
But fly from rage and thee.
King. Begone, begone,
You'll feel anon
What 'tis to injure me.
Queen. Away, false man!
Do all you can,
I scorn your jealous rage!
King. We will not part;
Take you my heart!
Give me your favourite page.

Queen. I'll keep my page!
King. And I my rage!
Nor shall you injure me.
Queen. Away, away!
I will not stay,
But fly from rage and thee.
Both. Away, away, &c. [Exe. Queen, &c.
Ob. Well, go thy way; thou shalt not from this grove,
Till I torment
thee for this injury--
My gentle Puck, come hither:
There is a flow'r,
the herb I shew'd thee once,
The juice of