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 atomies⏎ Over men's noses as they lie asleep;⏎ Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs,⏎ The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;⏎ Her traces, of the smallest spider web;⏎ Her collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams;⏎ Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;⏎ Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat,⏎ Not half so big as a round little worm⏎ Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid;⏎ Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,⏎ Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,⏎ Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.⏎ And in this state she gallops night by night⏎ Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;⏎ O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight;⏎ O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;⏎ O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,⏎ Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,⏎ Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.⏎ Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,⏎ And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;⏎ And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail⏎ Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,⏎ Then dreams he of another benefice.⏎ Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,⏎ And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,⏎ Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,⏎ Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon⏎ Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,⏎ And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two⏎ And sleeps again. This is that very Mab⏎ That plats the manes of horses in the night⏎ And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,⏎ Which once untangled much misfortune bodes.⏎ This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,⏎ That presses them and learns them first to bear,⏎ Making them women of good carriage.⏎ This is she🏁

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 atomies⏎ Over men's noses as they lie asleep;⏎ Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs,⏎ The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;⏎ Her traces, of the smallest spider web;⏎ Her collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams;⏎ Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;⏎ Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat,⏎ Not half so big as a round little worm⏎ Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid;⏎ Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,⏎ Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,⏎ Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.⏎ And in this state she gallops night by night⏎ Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;⏎ O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight;⏎ O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;⏎ O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,⏎ Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,⏎ Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.⏎ Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,⏎ And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;⏎ And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail⏎ Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,⏎ Then dreams he of another benefice.⏎ Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,⏎ And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,⏎ Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,⏎ Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon⏎ Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,⏎ And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two⏎ And sleeps again. This is that very Mab⏎ That plats the manes of horses in the night⏎ And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,⏎ Which once untangled much misfortune bodes.⏎ This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,⏎ That presses them and learns them first to bear,⏎ Making them women of good carriage.⏎ This is she🏁