Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere
Swifter than the moon’s
And I serve the Fairy Queen
To dew her orbs upon the green. (II.i.)
I jest to Oberon and make him smile
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal. (II.i.)
Thou shalt not from this grove
Till I torment thee for this injury. (II.i.)
Fetch me that flower. The herb I showed thee once.
The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees. (II.i.)