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And from the corner where he lay
Come prankling o'er the place,
But (trust me, Gentles!) never yet
The country lent the sweet perfumes,
Now whilft he gaz'd, a gallant drest
What mortal of a wretched mind,
At this the fwain, whofe venturous foul
Advanc'd in open fight;
"Nor have I caufe of dreed, he faid, "Who view, by no prefumption led,' "Your revels of the night.
" 'Twas grief, for scorn of faithful love, "Which made my steps unweeting rove "Amid the nightly dew."
"'Tis well, the gallant cries again,
"We fairies never injure men
"Who dare to tell us true.
"Exalt thy love-dejected heart,
"Be mine the task, or ere we part,
"Now take the pleasure of thy chaunce;
He spoke, and all a fudden there
The monarch leads the queen:
The reft their fairy partners found:
The dauncing paft, the board was laid,
Withouten hands the dishes fly,
But, now to pleafe the fairy king,
Some wind and tumble like an ape,
Till one at last, that Robin hight,
And full against the beam he flung,
Where by the back the youth he hung
From thence, « Reverse my charm, he cries, "And let it fairly now fuffice
"The gambol has been fhown."
But Oberon anfwers with a fmile, "Content thee Edwin for a while,
"The vantage is thine own."
Here ended all the phantom-play;
The whirling wind that bore the crowd
Then screaming all at once they fly,
Forlorn his state, and dark the place,
Through all the land before.
But foon as Dan Apollo rofe,
His honeft tongue and steady mind
Which made him want fuccefs.
With lufty livelyhed he talks,
He feems a dauncing as he walks,
And beauteous Edith fees the youth.
The story told, Sir Topaz mov'd,
At close of eve he leaves his home,
As there he bides, it fo befell,
Up fpring the tapers as before,
But certes forely funk with woe
When Oberon crys, "A man is near,
With that Sir Topaz, hapless youth!
Intreats them pity graunt;
For als he been a mister wights
"Ah Lofell vile, at once they roar: "And little skill'd of fairie lore,
"Thy caufe to come, we know: "Now has thy keftrell courage fell; "And fairies, fince a lye you tell,
"Are free to work thee woe."
Then Will, who bears the wifpy fire
There, like a tortoife, in a fhop
The revel now proceeds apace,
They fit, they drink, and eat;
The time with frolic mirth beguile,
By this the ftars began to wink,
They fhriek, they fly, the tapers fink,
For never spell by fairie laid
With strong enchantment bound a glade,
Beyond the length of night.