AIR.

1st Fai. Yes, yes, I know you, you are he
That frighten all the villagree;
Skim milk, and labour in the quern,
And bootless make the huswife churn;
Or make the drink to bear no barm,
Laughing at their loss and harm,
But call you Robin, and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and bring good luck.

Yes, you are that unlucky Sprite!
Like Will-a-whisp, a wandring light,
Through ditch, thro' bog, who lead astray
Benighted swains, who lose their way;
You pinch the slattern black and blue,
You silver drop in huswife's shoe;
For call you Robin and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and bring good luck.

Puck. But make room, Fairy, here comes Oberon.

1st Fai. And here my mistress: Would that he were gone!

Enter Oberon King of Fairies at one door, with his train, and the
Queen at another with hers.

Ob. Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania!

Queen. What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence,