Mab is the Queen of the Faeries. She is often portrayed as a trickster who robs dairies and steals babies. Mab first appeared in post-sixteenth century English literature, in the poems Nimphidia, and Entertainment at Althorpe by Ben Jonson. The origin of Queen Mab is most likely Celtic, either from Mabb of Welsh Mythology or Maeve (Maebhe) of the Cuchullain tales. In the Celtic tradition, Queen Mab was also known as Queen Maeve. "Maeve" means mead and it was said that Mab gave this blood red wine to all of her consorts. Mead wine represented menstrual blood which was considered "the wine of women's wisdom". In Warwickshire, the word "Mabled" came to mean "led astray by the faeries or elves". In Cymric (the Welsh language) Mab was defined as meaning "small child". Additionally, Mab meant "Drunk Woman" and "Queen Wolf". Mythologically, Mab was the Queen of Connact; the warrior queen of the Ulster Cycle. She was the combined mother/warrior aspect of the Triple Goddess. The Pagan festival of Mabon was celebrated in her honor each year at the Autumnal Equinox. During the festival, those wishing to be King were not endorsed unless Mab invited them to drink of her mead wine. This ensured that the male king would be well versed in feminism and women's mysteries. Queen Mab has enticed many to write about her in fiction. Earl Spencer wrote "The Fairy Queen" in which she appeared. One of the most notable references to Mab is in the speech by Mercutio in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

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 fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
The traces of the smallest spider's web,
The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
Not so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
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 court'sies 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:
Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
Then dreams, he of another benefice:
Sometime 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--