Scene the Wood
Queen. Now, for the third part of a minute hence,
Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,
Some war with rear-mice for their leathern wings,
To make my small Elves coats: And some keep back
The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders,
At our queint spirits. Sing me now asleep,
Then to your offices, and let me rest.
[Goes to the Bower and lies down.