Rogue Fairy

Preceeds Titania's lines in Act 4, Scene 1 (page 125)

Enter Matchbush, Peaseblossom, Cobweb, and Moth.

Matchbush: Gentle fairies, gather 'round

for the noble king ye hath crown'd,

mine eye spotted hoisting with utmost joy,

an addled Indian changeling boy.

My father thought him wholly shrewd,

but in truth his duties were eschew'd.

Thus have I resolved against my stay

and wish instead to join Titania's fray.

My guardians hold opposing views,

yet have granted me the honour to chuse.

Tired of my listless ways,

they ended my namikle¹ days.

Mayhap here I shall find direction

and fleetingly, true love's affection.

Peaseblossom: Didst thou expect their feud

to last as long as thee dost conclude?

Come hither, if thou wilt, discover

they are each a lover,

yet my fairy queen hath taken another.

Matchbush: What ho! This neither man nor beast,

nor e'en a fairy, at least!

Thou belovèd queen hath had her brains

stolen, for but a spoonful remains.

Thou art as foolish as she

if thou believes Titania loves he.

Cobweb: Fie! out cur! knave!

Flee now if thee wish not an early grave!

Thou churlish, dallying lout!

Thou art vile, but a pig-snout!

Moth: For thy discourtesies

we represent thine enemies.

Thee, we shalt banish

unless thee quickly vanish.

Matchbush: N'er did I desire

to turn myself a liar.

Nor was labour but an irk;

I n'er did wish to work.

King Oberon, I prefer,

hath plenty more sense than her,

but, i'faith, I desire neither.

My land of birth

nonpariel upon this earth,

filled with bare blanched limestone,

mountain reaching, age ripened trees,

mindless, buzzing humblebees,

serving golden liquid from honeycombs-

ay, this paradise is my home.

I shall transgress my parent's requests
for life with king or queen holds no success.

I was told I have a lovely voice,

and thus, this is my choice-

I could pass as an Athenian eunuch,

and in time, live by the Aegean Sea.

I could live off of an olive tree,

and though it may be unwise wishing,

I might eat plentifully by fishing.

I shall bring books to read,

and at last, be finally feeling freed.

Moth: Then return whence thou came,

return to the land of the shiftless laggards,

and insult our fair queen no more.

Peaseblossom: As thou wilt, Matchbush.

I bid thee luck on thy travels.

Cobweb: Avaunt! Get thee gone!

Hie, aroint thee!

Moth: Fare thee well,

Matchbush.

Matchbush: God save ye!       [Exit.]

¹=adj: lacking motivation; not caring; shielding self from responsibility