Her merry maids that thought no harm,
About the room were skipping;
A humble bee, their minstrel, played
Upon his hautboy; every maid
Fit for this Revels was arrayed,
The hornpipe neatly tripping.
In comes Nymphidia, and doth cry,
"My sovereign, for your safety fly,
For there is danger but too nigh;
I posted to forewarn you: