thful dead.[40] Thus
Guiderius, in "Cymbeline," thinking that Imogen is dead (iv. 2), says:

"With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
And worms will not come to thee;"[41]

there having been a popular notion that where fairies resorted no
noxious creature could be found.

[40] Ritson's "Fairy Mythology of Shakespeare," 1875, p. 29.

[41] Some copies read _them_.

In the pathetic dirge of Collins a similar allusion is made:

"No wither'd witch shall here be seen,
No goblin lead their nightly crew;
The female fays shall haunt the green,
And dress thy grave with pearly dew."

It seems, however, that they were also supposed to be malignant; but
this, "it may be," says Mr. Ritson, "was merely calumny, as being
utterly inconsistent with their general character, which was singularly
innocent and amiable." Thus, when Imogen, in "Cymbeline" (ii. 2), prays
on going to sleep,

"From fairies and the tempters of the night,
Guard me, beseech ye,"[42]

it must have been, says Mr. Ritson,[43] the _incubus_ she was so afraid
of.

[42] We may compare Banquo's words in "Macbeth" (ii. 1):

"Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature
Gives way to in repose."

[43] "Fairy Mythology," pp. 27, 28.

Hamlet, too, notices this imputed malignity of the fairies (i. 1):

"Then no planet strikes,
Nor fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm."[44]

[44] "Comedy of Errors" (iv. 2) some critics read:

"A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough."

That the fairies, however, were fond of indulging in mischievous sport
at the expense of mortals is beyond all doubt, the merry pranks of Puck
or Robin Goodfellow fully illustrating this item of our fairy-lore.
Thus, in "A Midsummer-Night's Dream" (ii. 1) this playful fairy says:

"I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon and make him smile,
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab;
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough."

A fairy, in another passage, asks Robin: