A Midsummer-Night's Dream — Act II, Sc. 1

Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quernAnd bootless make the breathless housewife churn;And sometime make the drink to bear no barm;Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck,You do their work, and they shall have good luck:Are not you he?

Thou speak’st aright;I am that merry wanderer of the night.I jest to Oberon and make him smileWhen I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:And sometime lurk I in a gossip’s bowl,In very likeness of a roasted crab,And when she drinks, against her lips I bobAnd 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 ‘tailor’ cries, and falls into a cough;And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swearA merrier hour was never wasted there.But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon.

… Fairies, away!We shall chide downright, if I longer stay

Following,—her womb then rich with my young squire,—Would imitate, and sail upon the land,To fetch me trifles, and return again,As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;And for her sake do I rear up her boy,And for her sake I will not part with him.

Perchance till after Theseus’ wedding-day.If you will patiently dance in our roundAnd see our moonlight revels, go with us;If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.

Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away!We shall chide downright, if I longer stay.

Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this groveTill I torment thee for this injury.My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememberest