FALSTAFF.
They are fairies, he that speaks to them shall die.
I’ll wink and couch. No man their works must eye.
[Lies down upon his face.]
EVANS
Where’s Bead? Go you, and where you find a maid
That ere she sleep has thrice her prayers said,
Rein up the organs of her fantasy;
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy.
But those as sleep and think not on their sins,
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins.
MISTRESS QUICKLY.
About, about!
Search Windsor castle, elves, within and out.
Strew good luck, oafs, on every sacred room,
That it may stand till the perpetual doom
In state as wholesome as in state ’tis fit,
Worthy the owner and the owner it.
The several chairs of order look you scour
With juice of balm and every precious flower.
Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest!
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing,
Like to the Garter’s compass, in a ring.
Th’ expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And Honi soit qui mal y pense write
In em’rald tufts, flowers purple, blue and white,
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair knighthood’s bending knee.
Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
Away, disperse! But till ’tis one o’clock,
Our dance of custom round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter let us not forget.
EVANS.
Pray you, lock hand in hand, yourselves in order set;
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be,
To guide our measure round about the tree.
But stay, I smell a man of middle earth.
FALSTAFF.
Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!
PISTOL.
Vile worm, thou wast o’erlooked even in thy birth.
MISTRESS QUICKLY.
With trial-fire touch me his finger-end.
If he be chaste, the flame will back descend
And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
PISTOL.
A trial, come.
EVANS.
Come, will this wood take fire?