C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Songs and Their Settings: Falstaff Tormented by the Supposed Fairies

EVANS—Lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set;

And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be,

To guide our measure round about the tree.

But stay! I smell a man of middle earth.

Falstaff[to himself]—Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!

Pistol—Vile worm, thou wast o’erlooked even in thy birth.

Queen—With trial-fire touch me his finger-end:

If he be chaste, the flame will back descend,

And turn him to no pain; but if he start,

It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.

Pistol—A trial! come.
Evans—Come, will this wood take fire?

[They burn Falstaff with their tapers.]

Falstaff—Oh, oh, oh!
Queen—Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!

About him, fairies, sing a scornful rhyme;

And as you trip, still pinch him to your time.

SONG BY ONE

Fie on sinful fantasy!

Fie on lust and luxury!

Lust is but a bloody fire,

Kindled with unchaste desire,

Fed in heart; whose flames aspire,

As thoughts do blow them higher and higher.

CHORUS

Pinch him, fairies, mutually;

Pinch him for his villainy;

Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,

Till candles, and starlight, and moonshine be out!