The Fairy Mythology: Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of Various CountriesKeightley, Thomas
General
The Fairy Mythology: Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of Various Countries
Keightley, Thomas
Fairies; Fairy tales; Folk literature; Folklore
_Dor._ Yet you kissed her
With admirable courtship.
_Jo._ I do think
There will be of Jocastus' brood in Fairy.
* * * * *
_The._ But what estate shall he assure upon me?
_Jo._ A royal jointure, all in Fairy land.
* * * * *
Dorylas knows it.
A curious park--
_Dor._ Paled round about with pickteeth.
_Jo._ Besides a house made all of mother-of-pearl,
An ivory tennis-court.
_Dor._ A nutmeg parlour.
_Jo._ A sapphire dairy-room.
_Dor._ A ginger hall.
_Jo._ Chambers of agate.
_Dor._ Kitchens all of crystal.
_Am._ O admirable! This it is for certain.
_Jo._ The jacks are gold.
_Dor._ The spits are Spanish needles.
_Jo._ Then there be walks--
_Dor._ Of amber.
_Jo._ Curious orchards--
_Dor._ That bear as well in winter as in summer.
_Jo._ 'Bove all, the fish-ponds, every pond is full--
_Dor._ Of nectar. Will this please you! Every grove
Stored with delightful birds.
ACT III.--SCENE 2.
_Dorylas says_,
Have at Jocastus' orchard! Dainty apples,
How lovely they look! Why these are Dorylas' sweetmeats.
Now must I be the princely Oberon,
And in a royal humour with the rest
Of royal fairies attendant, go in state
To rob an orchard. I have hid my robes
On purpose in a hollow tree.
ACT III.--SCENE 4.
_Dorylas with a bevy of Fairies._
_Dor._ How like you now, my Grace? Is not my countenance
Royal and full of majesty? Walk not I
Like the young prince of pygmies? Ha, my knaves,
We'll fill our pockets. Look, look yonder, elves;
Would not yon apples tempt a better conscience
Than any we have, to rob an orchard? Ha!
Fairies, like nymphs with child, must have the things
They long for. You sing here a fairy catch
In that strange tongue I taught you, while ourself
Do climb the trees. Thus princely Oberon
Ascends his throne of state.
_Elves._ Nos beata Fauni proles,
Quibus non est magna moles,
Quamvis Lunam incolamus.
Hortos sæpe frequentamus.
Furto cuncta magis bella,
Furto dulcior puella,
Furto omnia decora,
Furto poma dulciora.
Cum mortales lecto jacent,
Nobis poma noctu placent;
Illa tamen sunt ingrata
Nisi furto sint parata.
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