And as he runs he still doth cry, “King Oberon, I thee defy, And dare thee here in arms to try, For my dear lady’s honour: For that she is a Queen right good, In whose defence I’ll shed my blood, And that thou in this jealous mood Hast laid this slander on her.”

And quickly arms him for the field, A little cockle-shell his shield, Which he could very bravely wield; Yet could it not be piercéd: His spear a bent both stiff and strong, And well-near of two inches long: The pile was of a horse-fly’s tongue, Whose sharpness nought reverséd.

And puts him on a coat of mail, Which was made of a fish’s scale, That when his foe should him assail, No point should be prevailing: His rapier was a hornet’s sting, It was a very dangerous thing, For if he chanced to hurt the King, It would be long in healing.

His helmet was a beetle’s head, Most horrible and full of dread, That able was to strike one dead, Yet did it well become him; And for a plume a horse’s hair, Which, being tosséd with the air, Had force to strike his foe with fear, And turn his weapon from him.

Himself he on an earwig set, Yet scarce he on his back could get, So oft and high he did curvet, Ere he himself could settle: He made him turn, and stop, and bound, To gallop, and to trot the round, He scarce could stand on any ground, He was so full of mettle.

When soon he met with Tomalin, One that a valiant knight had been, And to King Oberon of kin; Quoth he, “Thou manly Fairy, Tell Oberon I come prepared, Then bid him stand upon his guard; This hand his baseness shall reward, Let him be ne’er so wary.

“Say to him thus, that I defy His slanders and his infamy, And as a mortal enemy Do publicly proclaim him: Withal that if I had mine own, He should not wear the Fairy crown, But with a vengeance should come down, Nor we a king should name him.”

This Tomalin could not abide, To hear his sovereign vilified; But to the Fairy Court him hied,  (Full furiously he posted,) With everything Pigwiggin said: How title to the crown he laid, And in what arms he was arrayed, As how himself he boasted.

Twixt head and foot, from point to point, He told the arming of each joint, In every piece how neat and quoint, For Tomalin could do it: How fair he sat, how sure he rid, As of the courser he bestrid, How managed, and how well he did:  The King which listened to it,

Quoth he, “Go, 

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