Fairy Tales, Now First Collected/Tale 8
TALE VIII.
NYMPHIDIA: THE COURT OF FAIRY.
Old Chaucer doth of Topas tell,Mad Rabelais of Pantagruel,A latter third of Dowsabel, With such poor trifles playing:Others the like have labour'd 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 willBe talking of the fairies still,Nor ever' 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 make, Knew they the way to do them.
Then since no muse hath been so bold,Or of the later, or the old,Those elvish secrets to unfold, Which lie from others reading;My active muse to light shall bringThe court of that proud fairy king,And tell there of the revelling: 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:My pretty, light, fantastic maid,I here invoke thee to my aid,That I may speak what thou hast said, In numbers smoothly swelling.
This palace standeth in the air,By necromancy placed there,That it no tempest' needs to fear, Which way soe'er it blow it:And somewhat southward tow'rd the noon,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 slates,Is cover'd 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 nightBestrides young folks that lie upright,(In elder times the mare that hight) Which plagues them out of measure.
Hence shadows, seeming idle shapesOf 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 consumed be,There dancing hayes by two and three, Just as their fancy casts them.
These make our girls their slutt'ry rue,By pinching them both black and blue,And put a penny in their shoe, The house for cleanly sweeping:And in their courses make that round,In meadows and in marshes found,Of them so call'd the fairy-ground, Of which they have the keeping.
These, when a child haps to be got,Which after proves an idiot,When folk perceive it thriveth not, The fault therein to smother,Some silly doating brainless calf,That understands things by the half,Says' that the fairy left this aulf, And took away the other.
But listen, and I shall you tell,A chance in Fairy that befell,Which, certainly, may please some well, In love and arms delighting,Of Oberon, that jealous grew,Of one of his own fairy crew,Too well (he fear'd) his queen that knew, His love but ill requiting.
Pigwiggen was this fairy knight,One wond'rous gracious in the sightOf fair queen Mab, which day and night, He amorously observed:Which made king Oberon suspectHis service took too good effect,His sauciness and often check'd, And could have wish'd him starved.
Pigwiggen gladly would commendSome token to queen Mab to send,If sea or land him aught could lend Were worthy of her wearing.At length this lover doth deviseA 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 pleased.To meet him, her true servant, whereThey might without suspect or fearThemselves to one another clear, And have their poor hearts eased.
"At midnight the appointed hour,And for the queen a fitting bow'r,(Quoth he) is that fair cowslip flow'r, On Hipcut-hill that groweth,In all your train there's not a fay,That ever went to gather May,But she hath made it in her way, The tallest there that groweth."
When by Tom Thum, 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 call,And bids them to be ready all,She would go see her summer-hall, She could no longer tarry.
Her chariot ready straight is made,Each thing therein is fitting laid,That she by nothing may be stay'd, For naught must her be letting:Four nimble gnats the horses were,Their harnesses of gossamere,Fly Cranion, her charioteer, Upon the coach-box getting.
Her chariot of a snails fine shell,Which for the colours did excell;The fair queen Mab becoming well, So lively was the limning:The seat the soft wool of the bee,The cover (gallantly to see)The wing of a py'd butterflee I trow, 'twas simple trimming.
The wheels compos'd of crickets bones,And daintily made for the nonce;For fear of rattling on the stones, With thistle-down they shod it:For all her maidens much did fear,If Oberon had chanc'd to hear,That Mab his queen should have been there, He would not have abode it.
She mounts her chariot 'in' a trice,Nor would she stay, for no advice,Until her maids, that were so nice, To wait on her were fitted,But ran herself away alone;Which when they heard, there was not one,But hasted after to be gone, As she had been diswitted.
Hop, and Mop, and Drap so clear,Pip, and Trip, and Skip, that wereTo Mab, their sovereign [most] dear, Her special maids of honour;Fib, and Tib, and Pink, and Pin,Tick, and Quick, and Jil, 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 'or' ditch they spared not, But after her they hye them.A cobweb over them they throw,To shield the wind if it should blow,Themselves they wisely could bestow, Lest any should espy them.
But let us leave queen Mab a while,Through many a gate, o'er many a stile,That now had gotten by this wile, Her dear Pigwiggen kissing;And tell how Oberon doth fareWho grew as mad as any hare,When he had sought each place with care, And found his queen was missing.
By griesly Pluto he doth swear,He rent his clothes, and tore his hair,And as he runneth here and there, An acron-cup he getteth;Which soon he taketh by the stalk,About his head he lets it walk,Nor doth he any creature baulk, But lays on all he meeteth.
The Tuscan poet doth advanceThe frantic Paladine of France,And those more ancient do inhance Alcides in his fury;And others Ajax Telamon:But to this time there hath been noneSo bedlam as our Oberon, Of which I dare assure ye.
And first encount'ring with a wasp,He in his arms the fly doth clasp,As tho' his breath he forth would grasp, Him for Pigwiggen taking:Where is my wife, thou rogue? (quoth he),Pigwiggen, she is come to thee;Restore her, or thou dy'st by me. Whereat the poor wasp quaking,
Cries, Oberon, great Fairy king,Content thee, I am no such thing;I am a wasp, behold my sting! At which the fairy started.When soon away the wasp doth go,Poor wretch was never frighted so,He thought his wings were much too slow, O'erjoy'd they so were parted.
He next upon a glow-worm light,(You must suppose it now was night)Which, for her hinder part was bright, He took to be a devil;And furiously doth her assailFor carrying fire in her tail;He thrash'd her rough coat with his flail, The mad king fear'd no evil.
Oh! (quoth the glow-worm) hold thy hand,Thou puissant king of Fairy-land,Thy mighty strokes who may withstand? Hold, or of life despair I.Together then herself doth roll,And tumbling down into a hole,She seem'd as black as any coal, Which vext away the fairy.
From thence he ran into a hive,Amongst the bees he letteth drive,And down their combs begins to rive, All likely to have spoiled:Which with their wax his face besmear'd,And with their honey daub'd his beard;It would have made a man affear'd, To see how he was moiled.
A new adventure him betides:He met an ant, which he bestrides,And post thereon away he rides, Which with his baste doth stumble;And came full over on her snout,Her heels so threw the dirt about,For she by no means could get out, But over him doth tumble.
And being in this piteous case,And all beslurried head and face,On runs he in this wild-goose chase, As here and there he rambles,Half blind, against a mole-hill hit,And for a mountain taking it,For all he was out of his wit, Yet to the top he scrambles.
And being gotten to the top,Yet there himself he could not stop,But down on th' other side doth chop, And to the foot came rumbling:So that the grubs therein that bred,Hearing such turmoil over head,Thought surely they had all been dead, So fearful was the jumbling.
And falling down into a lake,Which him up to the neck doth take,His fury it doth somewhat slake, He calleth for a ferry:Where you may some recovery note,What was his club he made his boat,And in his oaken cup doth float, As safe as in a wherry.
Men talk of the adventures strangeOf Don Quishot, and of their change,Through which he armed oft did range, Of Sancho Panchas travel:But should a man tell every thingDone by this frantic fairy king,And them in lofty numbers sing, It well his wits might gravel.
Scarce set on shore, but therewithalHe meeteth Puck, which most men callHob-goblin, and on him doth fall With words from frenzy spoken:Hoh, hoh, quoth Hob, god save thy graceWho dress'd thee in this piteous case?He thus that spoil'd my sov'reigns face I would his neck were broken.
This Puck seems but a dreaming dolt,Still walking like a ragged colt,And oft out of a bush doth bolt, Of purpose to deceive us;And, leading us, makes us to stray,Long winters nights out of the way,And, when we stick in mire and clay, He doth with laughter leave us.
Dear Puck, quoth he, my wife is gone,As 'e'er' thou lov'st king Oberon,Let every thing but this alone, With vengeance and pursue her:Bring her to me, alive or dead;Or that vile thief Pigwiggens head;That villain hath defil'd 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 muck, thorough mier,Thorough water, thorough fier, And thus goes Puck about it.
This thing Nymphidia overhear'd,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 loves pow'rful'st 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'dUpon his hautbois, ev'ry 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 Hob-goblin 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 every thing went down ;Some tore a ruff, and some a gown, 'Gainst one another justlingThey 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 nut, 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 creept,And lying down, they soundly slept, And 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 missletow;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 nine drops of the midnight dew, From lunary distilling;The molewarps brain mixt therewithall,And with the same the pismires 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 doth leap,' Her magick 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 curfeu-bell;By the doleful dying knell;O let this my direful spell, Hob, hinder thy surprising.
By the mandrakes dreadful groans;By the lubricans sad moans;By the noise of dead mens 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 whirlwinds hollow sound,By the thunders dreadful stound,Yells of spirits under ground, I charge thee not to fear us:By the scritch-owls dismal note,By the black night-ravens 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 head-piece feels,Against a stubbed tree he reels,And up went poor Hob-goblins 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 briers and brambles.
[A] 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 choked.
Now worse than e'er he was before,Poor Puck doth yell, poor Puck doth roar,That wak'd queen Mab, who doubted sore Some treason had been wrought her:Until Nymphidia told the queenWhat 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 distroughtWho 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 ladys honour:For 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-flys tongue, Whose sharpness naught reversed.
And puts him on a coat of mail,Which was [form'd] of a fishes scale,That, when his foe should him assail, No point should be prevailing.His rapier was a hornets 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 beetles 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 horses hair,Which, being tossed by the air,Had force to strike his foe with fear And turn his weapon from him.
Himself he on an ear-wig 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 stop, 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 defyHis slanders and his infamy,And, as a mortal enemy, Do publickly proclaim him:Withal, that if I had mine own,He should not wear the fairy crown,But with a vengeance should come down; Nor 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 every thing 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 every thing 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 every thing see thou me fit, Just as my foe's provided.
Soon flew this news through fairy-land,Which gave queen Mab to understandThe combate that was then in hand Betwixt those men so mighty:Which greatly she began to rue,Perceiving that all fairy knewThe 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 herThe cause into her hands to take,For ancient love and friendships sake,And soon thereof an end to make, Which of much care would ease her.
A while 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 arrived at the last, His puissant foc espying.
Stout Tomalin came with the king,Tom Thum doth on Pigwiggen bring,That perfect were in every thing 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 would 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 magick them supplied;And sought them that they had no charms,Wherewith to work each others harms,But came 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 shown, 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 takes 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 goneUnto 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 Proserpine meant to decide The matter very quickly.
And suddenly unites 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 Thum 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 proclaimTo all, in dreadful Plutos name,That, as ye will eschew his blame, You let me hear the quarrel.
But here yourselves you must engageSomewhat to cool your spleenish rage,Your grievous thirst and to asswage, 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, 'Is' 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 hadThat 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 sought,Much less that they a combat fought, But such a dream were loathing.Tom Thum had got a little sup,And Tomalin scarce kiss'd the cup,Yet had their brains so sure lock'd up, That they remember'd nothing.
Queen Mab and her light maids the whileAmongst 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.[1]
- ↑ Draytons Works, 1753, p. 451.