Suffolk his axe did ply;
Beaumont and Willoughby
Bare them right doughtily;
Ferrers and Fanhope.
Upon Saint Crispin's Day
Fought was this noble fray;
Which Fame did not delay
To England to carry.
O when shall English men
With such acts fill a pen?
Or England breed again
Such a King Harry?
NYMPHIDIA: THE COURT OF FAERY
MICHAEL DRAYTON
[A mock epic, in which Drayton playfully mingles the fairy lore of the romances with the classical mythology of earlier literature. A part of the story, relating certain adventures of Oberon and Puck, is omitted here.]
Old Chaucer doth of Thopas tell,
Mad Rabelais of Pantagruel,
A later third of Dowsabel,
With such poor trifles playing:
Others the like have labored at,
Some of this thing, and some of that,
And many of they know not what,
But that they must be saying.
Another sort there be, that will
Be talking of the fairies still,
Nor never can they have their fill
As they were wedded to them:
No tales of them their thirst can slake, So much delight therein they take,
And some strange thing they fain would
Knew they the way to do them.
Then since no Muse hath been so bold,
Or of the later or the old,3
Those elvish secrets to unfold,
Which lie from others' reading,
My active Muse to light shall bring
The court of that proud Fairy King,
And tell there of the reveling:
Jove prosper my proceeding!
And thou Nymphidia, gentle Fay,
Which, meeting me upon the way,
These secrets didst to me bewray,
Which now I am in telling:
3 Either of modern or ancient poets.
4 bewray. Reveal.
Whence lies a way up to the moon, And thence the fairy can as soon
Pass to the earth below it.
The walls of spiders' legs are made,
Well morticed and finely laid,—
He was the master of his trade,
It curiously that builded;
The windows of the eyes of cats,
And for the roof, instead of slats,
Is covered with the skins of bats,
With moonshine that are gilded.
Hence Oberon, him sport to make
(Their rest when weary mortals take,
And none but only fairies wake),
Descendeth for his pleasure; And Mab, his merry Queen, by night Bestrides young folks that lie upright1 (In elder times the Mare that hight),2 Which plagues them out of measure. Hence shadows, seeming idle shapes, Of little frisking elves and apes, To earth do make their wanton scapes, As hope of pastime hastes them; Which maids think on the hearth they see, When fires well-near consumèd be, There dancing hayes by two and three, Just as their fancy casts them.
Of one of his own fairy crew,
Too well (he feared) his queen that knew, His love but ill requiting.
Pigwiggen was this fairy knight,
One wondrous gracious in the sight
Of fair Queen Mab, which day and night
He amorously observèd;
Which made King Oberon suspect
His service took too good effect,
His sauciness and often checked,8
And could have wished him starvèd.9
Pigwiggen gladly would commend Some token to Queen Mab to send, If sea or land him aught could lend, Were worthy of her wearing.
At length this lover doth devise
A bracelet made of emmets' eyes,
A thing he thought that she would prize,
No whit her state impairing.
And to the Queen a letter writes,
Which he most curiously indites,
Conjuring her by all the rites
Of love, she would be pleasèd
To meet him, her true servant, where
They might without suspect of fear
Themselves to one another clear,
And have their poor hearts easèd.
"At midnight the appointed hour,
And for the Queen a fitting bower,"
Quoth he, "is that fair cowslip flower,
On Hipcut Hill that groweth.
In all your train there's not a fay
That ever went to gather May,10
But she hath made11 it in her way,-
The tallest there that groweth."
When by Tom Thumb, a fairy page,
He sent it, and doth him engage,
By promise of a mighty wage,
It secretly to carry:
Which done, the Queen her maids doth
Hop, and Mop, and Drap so clear,
Pip, and Trip, and Skip, that were
To Mab their sovereign ever dear,
Her special maids of honor;
Fib, and Tib, and Pink, and Pin,
Tick, and Quick, and Jill, and Jin,
Tit, and Nit, and Wap, and Win,
The train that wait upon her.
Upon a grasshopper they got,
And what with amble and with trot,
For hedge nor ditch they spared not,
But after her they hie them.
A cobweb over them they throw,
To shield the wind if it should blow;
Themselves they wisely could bestow,5
Lest any should espy them.
At length one chanced to find a nut,
In th' end of which a hole was cut, 210
Which lay upon a hazel root,
There scattered 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.
6 hautbois. Oboe.
7 posted. Hurried.
8 brake. Fern.
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