40. Oberon’s Feast
SHAPCOT! TO THE THE FAIRY STATEI WITH DISCRETION DEDICATE:BECAUSE THOU PRIZEST THINGS THAT ARECURIOUS AND UNFAMILIAR.TAKE FIRST THE FEAST; THESE DISHES GONE,WE’LL SEE THE FAIRY COURT ANON.
A little mushroom-table spread,After short prayers, they set on bread,A moon-parch’d grain of purest wheat,With some small glitt’ring grit, to eatHis choice bits with; then in a triceThey make a feast less great than nice.But all this while his eye is served,We must not think his ear was sterved;But that there was in place to stirHis spleen, the chirring grasshopper,The merry cricket, puling fly,The piping gnat for minstrelsy.And now, we must imagine first,The elves present, to quench his thirst,A pure seed-pearl of infant dew,Brought and besweeten’d in a blueAnd pregnant violet; which done,His kitling eyes begin to runQuite through the table, where he spiesThe horns of papery butterflies,Of which he eats; and tastes a littleOf that we call the cuckoo’s spittle;A little fuz-ball pudding standsBy, yet not blessed by his hands,That was too coarse; but then forthwithHe ventures boldly on the pithOf sugar’d rush, and eats the saggeAnd well-bestrutted bees’ sweet bag;Gladding his palate with some storeOf emmets’ eggs; what would he more?But beards of mice, a newt’s stew’d thigh,A bloated earwig, and a fly;With the red-capt worm, that’s shutWithin the concave of a nut,Brown as his tooth. A little moth,Late fatten’d in a piece of cloth;With wither’d cherries, mandrakes’ ears,Moles’ eyes: to these the slain stag’s tears;The unctuous dewlaps of a snail,The broke-heart of a nightingaleO’ercome in music; with a wineNe’er ravish’d from the flattering vine,But gently prest from the soft sideOf the most sweet and dainty bride,Brought in a dainty daisy, whichHe fully quaffs up, to bewitchHis blood to height; this done, commendedGrace by his priest; The feast is ended.