Himself he on an earwig 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 step, 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 defy His slanders and his infamy, And as a mortal enemy Do publicly proclaim him: Withal, that if I had mine own, He should not wear the Fairy crown, But with a vengeance should come down; Not 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 ev’rything 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 everything 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 everything see thou me fit, Just as my foe’s provided.” Soon flew this news through Fairy-land, Which gave Queen Mab to understand The combat that was then in hand Betwixt those men so mighty: Which greatly she began to rue, Perceiving that all Fairy knew, The 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 her The cause into her hands to take, For ancient love and friendship’s sake, And soon thereof an end to make, Which of much care would ease her. Awhile 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 arrivèd at the last, His puissant foe espying. Stout Tomalin came with the King, Tom Thumb doth on Pigwiggen bring, That perfect were in ev’rything 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.