At Chalk and sundry other farms!
Doing, with the City Light Horse,
Warlike wonders on your white horse!
You, Sir Peter, I'll be shot

But I'm ashamed, if you are not !
To let him look and talk us down,
A fico for his cockney crown!

And not, Od's Triggers! tickle him!

Sir P.

Toot!

"Twill be (daylight's coming soon) Better policy to shoot

Not the Mayor-but the Moon!

[Exeunt.

T

SCENE VII.-London Bridge.

Enter Democritus.

Democritus.

RICKSY spirit! moonlight fay!
Melting in the mist away,

Flitting by me, hovering nigh me,
Wherefore, frolic phantom! fly me?
If thou art a courteous sprite
Keep me company to-night,

While the stars above us shine

Mingle sweet discourse with mine;
Merry 'tis when rides her noon
Spirits meet beneath the moon!
Puck. Ho! ho! ho!

Dem. That voice I know

(Puck appears.) 40

Robin's form, and Robin's crow!
Special mischief I'll be bound

Brings thee, Puck, from fairy ground.

40 Robin Good-Fellow, or Puck, was (see "Tarleton's Newes out of Purgatorie, &c. 1588) "famozed in every old wives chronicle for his mad prankes." Anthony Munday, in his Comedy of "The Two Italian Gentlemen," printed in 1584, styles him "Hob-goblin." In "Skialtheia or a Shadowe of Truth," 1598, he is thus introduced,

"No; let's esteeme opinion as she is,
Fool's bawble, innovation's mistris,

The Proteus, Robin-good-fellow of change."

The fairy-father of Robin Good-Fellow was Oberon, to whom he is indebted for his Protean gifts, which, in "Robin Good-Fellow, His mad Prankes, and Merry Jests, Full of Honest Mirth, and is a Fit Medicine for Melancholy," 1639, are curiously enumerated.

In Percy's "Reliques of Ancient Poetry" occurs the Ballad of "The Merry Prankes of Robin Goodfellow," and there is another production of a similar description, viz. a unique black letter history in verse, printed early in the seventeenth Century as a Chap-book, which shows whose son he was-how he carried himself-how he ran away from his mother-how he left his master the tailor-how Oberon told him he should be turned into what shape he could wish or desire-and how he proved the truth of his "mysterious skill," and played it off with whimsical effect upon those who deserved to be mischievously annoyed by it.

Such was "Will the Wisp," Robin Good-Fellow. Shakespeare adopted him, and put upon his head the crown of immortality!

Truant! what a contrast this
To thy balmy bowers of bliss!
Thine the fragrant breath of Flora
Offering incense to Aurora;
Mine a reeking fume, alas !
Of impurity and gas;

Thine the woodland's velvet green;
Crooked are my ways, unclean,
Not thro' leafy groves and valleys,
But long lanes and dark blind alleys !
In thy fairy home and free,

Thine the gurgling melody
Of the rivulet, as along

It ripples, and the joyous song
To pastoral pipe that shepherds sing
Coming forth to meet the spring!
With a serenade of sadness,

Shouts of hollow mirth, and madness,
Of houseless wretches the shrill cry
Shivering beneath a wintry sky,
And wet with icy dews distill'd
By the cold moon, my ear is fill'd—
Mournful music! with affright

41 When, in the course of ages, this magnificent Forest is laid low, the poet of future times shall behold in imagination Herne's Oak, associated with Falstaff and fairy revelry!

+ There never was a merry World since the Fairies left Dancing, and the Parson left Conjuring. The opinion of the latter kept Thieves in awe, and did as much good in a Country as a Justice of Peace. .-Selden's Table-Talk.

Startling the silence of the night!
Say, are Oberon, Titania,

Bitten with thy rambling mania?

Puck. Beneath the ancient forest-tree 11

That sweetly-flowing Avon's Swan

Set his glorious mark upon,

While the Regent of the night
Bathed the heavens in liquid light,
To fairy measures, on the green,
From magic lutes and harps unseen,
I left them tripping merrily! 42
In whatever shape appear

Spirits from their shadowy sphere
They, with cunning speech and guise,
Cannot cheat my ears and eyes.
Not of swash-buckler the swagger
Wedded to a wooden dagger,
Nor, to boot, that motley suit
With the Fool's regalia to't,
Nor the speech so gravely spoken
Puck, ho! ho! can play a joke on!
Spirit! erst of the Acropolis,43
Of Minerva the Metropolis!

43 The city of Solon, Socrates, and Demosthenes; of Phocion, Plato, and Euripides-with its majestic Citadel and Temple-its marble columns still standing around the sunny heights of Hymettus-its plain divided by a scanty stream, and gray with olive groves—and, in the distance, the azure expanse of the Ægean sea!. "On reaching Parnassus," Dr. Clarke exclaims, "it is necessary to forget all that has preceded—all the travels of my life-all I ever

Who in marriage bonds allied
Wit, and wisdom heavenly bride!
Jests right jocund quaintly brought
From the solemn depths of thought,
And made philosophic lips
Redolent of cranks and quips!
Spirit, erst of that fair land

Where beauty, terror, hand in hand,
Breathe the sublime on Tempe's vale,1

And honey-crowned Hymettus, hail !
If, as I expect, thy visit

To our city is to quiz it,

A raree-show to be rehearsed

Shall soon provoke thy merriest burst.
As a prologue to the laughter

In good store for thee hereafter,

Puck, the organ-grinding ghost,

44

imagined-all I ever saw! Asia-Egypt-the IslesItaly-the Alps-whatever you will! Greece surpasses all! Stupendous in its ruins !-awful in its mountains!captivating in its vales-bewitching in its climate. Nothing ever equalled it-no pen can describe it-no pencil can pourtray it!"

44 Euripides has given a fine description of this celebrated valley, this " festival for the eyes!" Ælian describes its beauty, and Livy its sublimity. The latter assures us that when the Roman army was marching over one of the passes, the soldiers were thrilled with horror at the awful appearance of the rocks, and the thundering noise of the cataracts!

45"He shall make songs in the night." The painful affliction of one dearly loved has, to Uncle Timothy, realised this divine promise :