His Grace had orchards of his own more precious
Than mortals can have any.
The Elves, by his master's permission, pinch Bromius, singing,
Quoniam per te violamur,
Ungues hic experiamur;
Statim dices tibi datam
Cutem valde variatam.
Finally, when the coast is clear, Oberon cries,
So we are got clean off; come, noble peers
Of Fairy, come, attend our royal Grace.
Let's go and share our fruit with our queen Mab
And the other dairy-maids; where of this theme
We will discourse amidst our cakes and cream.
Cum tot poma habeamus,
Triumphos læti jam canamus;
Faunos ego credam ortos,
Tantum ut frequentent hortos.
I domum, Oberon, ad illas,
Quæ nos manent nunc, ancillas,
Quarum osculemur sinum,
Inter poma lac et vinum.
In the old play of Fuimus Troes are the following lines:[404]
Fairies small,
Two foot tall,
With caps red
On their head,
Danse around
On the ground.
The pastoral poets also employed the Fairy Mythology. Had they used it exclusively, giving up the Nymphs, Satyrs, and all the rural rout of antiquity, and joined with it faithful pictures of the scenery England then presented, with just delineations of the manners and character of the peasantry, the pastoral poetry of that age would have been as unrivalled as its drama. But a blind admiration of classic models, and a fondness for allegory, were the besetting sins of the poets. They have, however, left a few gems in this way.