Fairies

Mercutio
O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate stone
On the forefinger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomi
Over men’s noses as they lie asleep.

True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
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Robin
How now, spirit? Whither wander you?

Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
Called Robin Goodfellow.

Fairy

Over hill, over dale,
 Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
 Thorough flood,
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Titania
Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence—
Some to kill cankers in the muskrose buds,
Some war with reremice for their leathern wings
To make my small elves coats, and some keep back
The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders
At our quaint spirits.
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Bottom
Will it please you to see the Epilogue or to hear
a Bergomask dance between two of our company?
Theseus
No epilogue, I pray you. For your play needs
no excuse. Never excuse. For when the players are
all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if
he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged
himself in Thisbe’s garter,
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