Faith! this ring I wear, I swear,
'Twas Queen Mab who gave it: studded,
As you see, with rubies rare—
Eyes of spiders blooded.
Doubt me, sirs, and by my blade!—
Sirrahs, a good stabbing hanger!
From a hornet's stinger made!—
You may dread my anger!
Fill the lichen pottles up,
Honey pressed from hearts of roses: