The summer still doth tend upon my state;
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee,164
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.168
Pease-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!
Enter four Fairies.
Peas. Ready.
Cob.And I.
Moth.And I.
Mus.And I.
All Four.Where shall we go?
Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes;172
Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries.
The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs,176
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
To have my love to bed, and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies
To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes:180
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
Peas. Hail, mortal!
Cob. Hail!
Moth. Hail!184
Mus. Hail!
Bot. I cry your worships mercy, heartily: I
beseech your worship's name.
Cob. Cobweb.188
169 Moth; cf. n.
186 cry . . . mercy: beg . . . pardon
