Part 5

“Dear Puck,” quoth he, “my wife is gone; As e’er thou lov’st King Oberon, Let everything but this alone, With vengeance and pursue her: Bring her home alive or dead; Or that vile thief Pigwiggen’s head; That villain hath defiled my bed, He to this folly drew her.”

Quoth Puck, “My liege, I’ll never lin, But I will thorough thick and thin, Until at length I bring her in, My dearest lord, ne’er doubt it.” Thorough brake, thorough brier, Thorough mud, thorough mier, Thorough water, thorough fier, And thus Puck goes about it.

This thing Nymphidia overheard, That on this mad king had a guard, Not doubting of a great reward, For first this bus’ness broaching: And through the air away doth go Swift as an arrow from the bow, To let her sovereign Mab to know What peril was approaching.

The queen, bound with love’s powerful charm, Sate with Pigwiggen arm in arm; Her merry maids, that thought no harm, About the room were skipping: A humble-bee their minstrel, play’d Upon his haut-bois, every maid Fit for this revel was array’d, 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: The king hath sent Hobgoblin out, To seek you all the fields about, And of your safety you may doubt, If he but once discern you.”

When like an uproar in a town, Before them everything went down; Some tore a ruff, and some a gown, ’Gainst one another jostling: They flew about like chaff i’ th’ wind; For haste some left their masks behind, Some could not stay their gloves to find; There never was such bustling.

Forth ran they by a secret way, Into a brake that near them lay, Yet much they doubted there to stay, Lest Hob should hap to find them: He had a sharp and piercing sight, All one to him the day and night, And therefore were resolv’d by flight To leave this place behind them.

At length one chanc’d to find a nut, In th’ end of which a hole was cut, Which lay upon a hazel-root, There scatter’d by a squirrel, Which out the kernel gotten had: When quoth this Fay, “Dear queen, be glad, Let Oberon be ne’er so mad, I’ll set you safe from peril.

“Come all into this hut (quoth she), Come closely in, be rul’d by me, Each one may here a chuser be, For room ye need not wrestle, Nor need ye be together heapt.” So one by one therein they crept, And lying down, they soundly slept, As safe as in a castle.

Nymphidia, that this while doth watch, Perceiv’d if Puck the queen should catch, That he would be her over-match, Of which she well bethought her; Found it must be some pow’rful charm, The queen against him that must arm, Or surely he would do her harm, For throughly he had sought her.

And list’ning if she aught could hear, That her might hinder, or might fear; But finding still the coast was clear, Nor creature had descry’d her: Each circumstance and having scann’d, She came thereby to understand, Puck would be with them out of hand, When to her charms she hy’d her.

And first her fern seed doth bestow, The kernel of the mistletoe; And here and there as Puck should go, With terror to affright him, She night-shade straws to work him ill, Therewith her vervain and her dill, That hind’reth witches of their will, Of purpose to despight him.

Then sprinkles she the juice of rue, That groweth underneath the yew, With wine drops of the midnight dew, From lunary distilling; The wolewarp’s brain mixt therewithal, And with the same the pismire’s gall: For she in nothing short would fall, The Fairy was so willing.

Then thrice under a brier doth creep, Which at both ends was rooted deep, And over it three times did leap, Her magic much availing: Then on Proserpina doth call, And so upon her spell doth fall, Which here to you repeat I shall, Not in one tittle failing.

“By the croaking of the frog; By the howling of the dog; By the crying of the hog Against the storm arising; By the evening curfew-bell; By the doleful dying knell; O let this my direful spell, Hob, hinder thy surprising.

“By the Mandrake’s dreadful groans: By the Lubrican’s sad moans; By the noise of dead men’s bones In charnel houses rattling; By the hissing of the snake, The rustling of the fire-drake, I charge thee this place forsake, Nor of Queen Mab be prattling.

“By the whirlwind’s hollow sound, By the thunder’s dreadful stound, Yells of spirits underground, I charge thee not to fear us: By the screech-owl’s dismal note, By the black night-raven’s throat, I charge thee, Hob, to tear thy coat With thorns, if thou come near us.”

Her spell thus spoke, she stept aside, And in a chink herself doth hide, To see thereof what would betide, For she doth only mind him: When presently she Puck espies, And well she markt his gloating eyes, How under every leaf he pries, In seeking still to find them.

But once the circle got within, The charms to work do straight begin, And he was caught as in a gin: For as he thus was busy, A pain he in his headpiece feels, Against a stubbed tree he reels, And up went poor Hobgoblin’s heels; Alas! his brain was dizzy.

At length upon his feet he gets, Hobgoblin fumes, Hobgoblin frets, And as again he forward sets, And through the bushes scrambles, A stump doth trip him in his pace, Down comes poor Hob upon his face, And lamentably tore his case Amongst the briars and brambles.

“Plague upon Queen Mab (quoth he), And all her maids, where’er they be; I think the devil guided me, To seek her, so provoked.” When stumbling at a piece of wood, He fell into a ditch of mud, Where to the very chin he stood, In danger to be choaked.

Now worse than e’er he was before, Poor Puck doth yell, poor Puck doth roar, That waked Queen Mab, who doubted sore Some treason had been wrought her: Until Nymphidia told the Queen What she had done, what she had seen, Who then had well-near crack’d her spleen With very extreme laughter.

But leave we Hob to clamber out, Queen Mab and all her Fairy rout, And come again to have a bout With Oberon yet madding: And with Pigwiggen now distrought, Who much was troubled in his thought, That he so long the Queen had sought, And through the fields was gadding.

And as he runs, he still doth cry, “King Oberon, I thee defy, And dare thee here in arms to try, For my dear lady’s honour: In that she is a queen right good, In whose defence I’ll shed my blood, And that thou in this jealous mood Hast laid this slander on her.”

And quickly arms him for the field, A little cockle-shell his shield, Which he could very bravely wield, Yet could it not be pierced: His spear a bent both stiff and strong, And well near of two inches long; The pile was of a horse-fly’s tongue, Whose sharpness nought reversed.

And puts him on a coat of mail, Which was of a fishe’s scale, That when his foe should him assail, No point should be prevailing. His rapier was a hornet’s sting, It was a very dangerous thing, For if he chanc’d to hurt the king, It would be long in healing.

His helmet was a beetle’s head, Most horrible and full of dread, That able was to strike one dead, Yet it did well become him: And for a plume, a horse’s hair, Which being tossèd by the air, Had force to strike his foe with fear, And turn his weapon from him.

Himself he on an earwig set, Yet scarce he on his back could get, So oft and high he did curvet, Ere he himself could settle: He made him turn, and step, and bound, To gallop, and to trot the round, He scarce could stand on any ground, He was so full of mettle.

When soon he met with Tomalin, One that a valiant knight had been, And to great Oberon of kin: Quoth he, “Thou manly Fairy, Tell Oberon I come prepar’d, Then bid him stand upon his guard; This hand his baseness shall reward, Let him be ne’er so wary.

“Say to him thus, ‘That I defy His slanders and his infamy, And as a mortal enemy Do publicly proclaim him: Withal, that if I had mine own, He should not wear the Fairy crown, But with a vengeance should come down; Not we a king should name him.’”

This Tomalin could not abide, To hear his sovereign vilify’d; But to the Fairy court him hy’d, Full furiously he posted, With ev’rything Pigwiggen said; How title to the crown he laid, And in what arms he was array’d, And how himself he boasted.

’Twixt head and foot, from point to point, He told the arming of each joint, In every piece how neat and quaint; For Tomalin could do it: How fair he sat, how sure he rid; As of the courser he bestrid, How manag’d, and how well he did. The king, which listen’d to it,

Quoth he, “Go, Tomalin, with speed, Provide me arms, provide my steed, And everything that I shall need, By thee I will be guided: To strait account call thou thy wit, See there be wanting not a whit, In everything see thou me fit, Just as my foe’s provided.”

Soon flew this news through Fairy-land, Which gave Queen Mab to understand The combat that was then in hand Betwixt those men so mighty: Which greatly she began to rue, Perceiving that all Fairy knew, The first occasion from her grew, Of these affairs so weighty.

Wherefore attended with her maids, Through fogs, and mists, and damps she wades, To Proserpine the Queen of Shades, To treat, that it would please her The cause into her hands to take, For ancient love and friendship’s sake, And soon thereof an end to make, Which of much care would ease her.

Awhile there let we Mab alone, And come we to King Oberon, Who arm’d to meet his foe is gone, For proud Pigwiggen crying: Who sought the Fairy King as fast, And had so well his journies cast, That he arrivèd at the last, His puissant foe espying.

Stout Tomalin came with the King, Tom Thumb doth on Pigwiggen bring, That perfect were in ev’rything To single fights belonging: And therefore they themselves engage, To see them exercise their rage, With fair and comely equipage, Not one the other wronging.

So like in arms these champions were, As they had been a very pair, So that a man could almost swear That either had been either: Their furious steeds began to neigh, That they were heard a mighty way: Their staves upon their rests they lay; Yet ere they flew together,

Their seconds minister an oath, Which was indifferent to them both, That on their knightly faith and troth, No magic them supplied; And sought them that they had no charms, Wherewith to work each other’s harms, But come with simple open arms, To have their causes tried.

Together furiously they ran, That to the ground came horse and man; The blood out of their helmets span, So sharp were their encounters: And though they to the earth were thrown, Yet quickly they regain’d their own; Such nimbleness was never shewn, They were two gallant mounters.

When in a second course again, They forward came with might and main, Yet which had better of the twain, The seconds could not judge yet: Their shields were into pieces cleft, Their helmets from their heads were ’reft, And to defend them nothing left, These champions would not budge yet.

Away from them their staves they threw, Their cruel swords they quickly drew, And freshly they the fight renew, They every stroke redoubled: Which made Proserpina take heed, And make to them the greater speed, For fear lest they too much should bleed, Which wond’rously her troubled.

When to th’ infernal Styx she goes, She take the fogs from thence that rose, And in a bag doth them enclose, When well she had them blended: She hies her then to Lethe spring, A bottle and thereof doth bring, Wherewith she meant to work the thing Which only she intended.

Now Proserpine with Mab is gone Unto the place where Oberon And proud Pigwiggen, one to one, Both to be slain were likely: And there themselves they closely hide, Because they would not be espy’d; For Prosperpine meant to decide The matter very quickly.

And suddenly unties the poke, Which out of it sent such a smoke, As ready was them all to choke, So grievous was the pother: So that the knights each other lost, And stood as still as any post, Tom Thumb nor Tomalin could boast Themselves of any other.

But when the mist ’gan somewhat cease, Proserpina commandeth peace, And that a while they should release Each other of their peril: “Which here (quoth she) I do proclaim To all, in dreadful Pluto’s name, That as ye will eschew his blame, You let me hear the quarrel.

“But here yourselves you must engage, Somewhat to cool your spleenish rage, Your grievous thirst and to assuage, That first you drink this liquor; Which shall your understandings clear, As plainly shall to you appear, Those things from me that you shall hear, Conceiving much the quicker.”

This Lethe water, you must know, The memory destroyeth so, That of our weal, or of our woe, It all remembrance blotted, Of it nor can you ever think: For they no sooner took this drink, But nought into their brains could sink, Of what had them besotted.

King Oberon forgotten had That he for jealousy ran mad; But of his queen was wond’rous glad, And ask’d how they came thither. Pigwiggen likewise doth forget That he Queen Mab had ever met, Or that they were so hard beset When they were found together.

Nor either of ’em both had thought That e’er they had each other fought, Much less that they a combat sought, But such a dream were loathing. Tom Thumb had got a little sup, And Tomalin scarce kiss’d the cup, Yet had their brains so sure lockt up, That they remember’d nothing.

Queen Mab and her light maids the while Amongst themselves do closely smile, To see the king caught with this wile, With one another jesting: And to the Fairy Court they went, With mickle joy and merriment, Which thing was done with good intent; And thus I left them feasting.

MICHAEL DRAYTON.

PRINCE BRIGHTKIN.

SCENE: _A Forest in Fairyland_.

DAWN.

_First Fairy._ Fairies and Elves! Shadows of night Pale and grow thin, Branches are stirr’d; Rouse up yourselves; Sing to the light, Fairies, begin,— Hark, there’s a bird!

_Second._ For dreams are now fading, Old thoughts in new morning; Dull spectres and goblins To dungeon must fly. The starry night changeth, Its low stars are setting, Its lofty stars dwindle And hide in the sky.

_First._ Fairies, awake! Light on the hills! Blossom and grass Tremble with dew; Gambols the snake, Merry bird shrills, Honey-bees pass, Morning is new.

_Second._ Pure joy of the cloudlets, All rippled in crimson! Afar over world’s edge The night-fear is roll’d; O look how the Great One Uplifts himself kingly; At once the wide morning Is flooded with gold!

_First._ Fairies, arouse! Mix with your song Harplet and pipe, Thrilling and clear. Swarm on the boughs! Chant in a throng! Morning is ripe, Waiting to hear.

_Second._ The merle and the skylark Will hush for our chorus, Quick wavelets of music, Begin them anon! Good-luck comes to all things That hear us and hearken,— Our myriads of voices Commingling in one.

_General Chorus._ Golden, golden Light unfolding, Busily, merrily, work and play, In flowery meadows, And forest-shadows, All the length of a summer day! All the length of a summer day!

Sprightly, lightly, Sing we rightly! Moments brightly hurry away! Fruit-tree blossoms, And roses’ bosoms— Clear blue sky of a summer day! Dear blue sky of a summer day!

Springlets, brooklets, Greeny nooklets, Hill and valley, and salt-sea spray! Comrade rovers, Fairy lovers,— All the length of a summer day! All the livelong summer day!

FORENOON.

_Enter two Fairies_ (ROSLING _and_ Another) _separately_.

_First._ Greeting, brother!

_Second._ Greet thee well! Hast thou any news to tell? How goes sunshine?

_First._ Flowers of noon All their eyes will open soon, While ours are closing. What hast done Since the rising of the sun?

_Second._ Four wild snails I’ve taught their paces, Pick’d the best ones for the races. Thou?

_First._ Where luscious dewdrops lurk, I with fifty went to work, Catching delicious wine that wets The warm blue heart of violets; Last moon it was hawthorn-flower, Next moon ’twill be virgin’s bower, Moon by moon, the varied rose,— To seal in flasks for winter mirth, When frost and darkness wrap the earth. Which wine delights you, fay?

_Second._ All those; But none is like the Wine of Rose. With Wine of Rose, In midst of snows The sunny season flows and glows!

_First._ Elf, thou lovest best, I think, The time to sit in a cave and drink.

_Second._ Is’t not well to have good reason, Thus, for loving every season? White-rose wine Is pure and fine, But red-rose dew, dear tipple of mine! The red flow’rs bud In our summery blood, And the nightingale sings in our brain like a wood.

_First._ Some who came a-gathering dew, Tasting, sipping, fresh and new, Tumbled down, an idle crew, And there among the grass they lie, Under a toadstool; any fly May nip their foolish noses!

_Second._ Soon We shall hear the Call of Noon.

_First._ They cannot stir to any tune. No evening feast for them, be sure, But far-off sentry on the moor. Whence that sound of music?—hist!

_Second._ Klingoling, chief lutanist, A hundred song-birds in a ring Is teaching all this morn to sing Together featly, so to fill The wedding-music,—loud and shrill, Soft and sweet, and high and low, Singled, mingled. He doth know The art to make a hundred heard Like one great surprising bird.

_First._ Here comes Rosling! He’ll report All the doings of the Court.

_Enter a Third Fairy._

Greeting, brothers!

_First._ Greet thee well! Hast thou any news to tell? Our Princess dear, what shadow lies Drooping on her blissful eyes? Her suitors plague her?—is it so?

_Third._ So in truth it is. But, lo! Who comes our way? Fairy, whence? Thou’rt a stranger.

_Enter a Fourth Fairy._

No offence, I trust, altho’ my cap is blue, While yours are green as any leaf. Courteous fays! No spy or thief Is here, but one who longs to view Your famous Forest; chiefly there Your Princess fair, the praised in song Wheresoever fairies throng. Oft you see her?

_Third._ Every day.

_Fourth._ And is she lovely as they say?

_Third._ Thou hast not seen her? Dost thou think Blue and golden, white and pink, Could paint the magic of her face? All common beauty’s highest place Being under hers how far!—

_Fourth._ How far?

_Third._ A glow-worm to the evening star.

_First._ Scarce Klingoling could say so well! ’Tis true: so much she doth excel. Come, fairy, to our feast to-night, Two hours from sunset; then you may See the Forest-Realm’s Delight.

_Fourth._ But were it not presumptuous?

_First._ Nay, Thou art, I ween, a gentle fay, And sure of welcome.

_Fourth._ It is said Her Highness shortly means to wed!

_Third._ Next full moon, by fairy law, She must marry, no escape, Were it marsh-sprite, kobold, shape Creeping from earth-hole with horn and claw!

_Fourth._ And hath she now a suitor?

_Third._ Three; Bloatling, Rudling, Loftling; she Loathes them all impartially. The first is ugly, fat, and rich, Grandson of a miser witch; He sends her bossy peonies, Fat as himself, to please her eyes, And double poppies, mock flow’rs made In clumsy gold, for brag display’d; Ten of the broadest shoulder’d elves To carry one must strain themselves.

_First._ Aye! so I’ve seen them.

_Second._ This is more Than I ever heard before.

_Third._ Field-marshal Rudling, soldier fay, His beard a broom to sweep away Opposition, with his frown Biddeth common fairies, “Down! Down on your knees!” and then his smile, Our lovely Lady’s heart to wile— Soft as a rat-trap! and his voice— Angry jay makes no such noise When bold marauders threat (as you, Little Jinkling, sometimes do) Her freckled eggs.

_Fourth._ And Loftling?