The Queen, bound with Love's powerful'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, played
Upon his hautboy; every maid
Fit for this Revels was arrayed,
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 Hobgoblin 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 everything went down;
Some tore a ruff, and some a gown,
'Gainst one another justling;
They 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 resolved by flight
To leave this place behind them.
At length one chanced to find a nut,
In th' end of which a hole was cut,
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.
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