Farewel thou lob of spirits, I'll be gone;
Our Queen and all her Elves come here 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.